


Head Above Water

by Nova42



Series: Frozen [1]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Family Drama, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Movie: Frozen (2013), Post-Frozen (2013), Sister-Sister Relationship, Sisters, Slice of Life, Snow and Ice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22723753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova42/pseuds/Nova42
Summary: "It's not the future you are afraid of. It's the fear of the past repeating itself that haunts you." Takes place directly after Frozen I, following Anna and Elsa as they learn to be sisters again. Takes place before and ties in directly with All It Cost.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Series: Frozen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731874
Comments: 54
Kudos: 121





	1. Long Live the Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Frozen, obviously. Just the first movie for now.
> 
> Takes place directly after the first Frozen movie, dates are built off the in movie map in Frozen II, and the assumption Iduna and Agnarr got had a new map when they set sail in 1840. I understand that there are differences in opinions on the year things take place. The dates have been add mostly for organization and making it visible how much time has passed from one chapter to the next since the story is more snapshots of what happened after thawing Arendelle instead of a proper liner story. There will be no OC shipping in the story.

_**No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear.** _

**C.S. Lewis**

* * *

**23 September 1840 **

"Do you have to go?" Elsa asked. She tried not to look as nervous as she felt but couldn't help wringing her hands. They would be gone for two weeks this time. It wasn't the first time the King and Queen had to travel, but it had been years since the last time they set sail, and this _was_ the first time they would be leaving her as Keeper of the Kingdom until their return. She would be expected to carry out her father's duties in his absence, despite the fact she was not technically yet of age.

"You'll be fine, Elsa," the King said softly, offering her a reassuring smile. "Just remember what I taught you. And think about what we talked about last night, yes?"

Elsa nodded solemnly, but she was remained unsure of the right thing to do. Her powers had grown stronger over the past thirteen years, to the point that any spark of emotion within her brought them to the surface, good or bad. Her powers felt so different when they were evoked by love or joy, but the mere sight of ice spreading from her, like a frigid infection, quickly squashed any positive feelings, turned them instead to panic and fear. "I will, Papa."

Agnarr gave a small nod of encouragement then gestured to Kai, the royal household's manservant who'd been with them since before Elsa's birth. He was one of only four people other than her parents who knew of Elsa's powers. "Kai." He held out a sealed document. "See to it that Bishop Davynn gets this."

"Of course, your Majesty." Kai bowed as he took the paper.

A heavy weight sat in Elsa's stomach. She knew what instructions the parchment contained; she'd watched her father draft the order. He had taken great care that she knew and understood the words written there.

_I, Agnarr, King of Arendelle,_

_do hereby proclaim Elsa, Crowned Princess_

_and heir apparent of Arendelle, Keeper_

_of the kingdom to act with all the authority_

_of the crown in my absence and until either my_

_return or I no longer reside on this earth._

"I know it's a bit unorthodox," her father had said the night before, as she stood in his study and read over the royal decree. "Technically, you are still a few years too young to act with the crown's authority while I'm away. But you have worked hard in your studies, and there's only so much I can teach you, Elsa. I think it's time you get firsthand experience. I trust you to do good while your mother and I are gone."

Elsa's head snapped up and her gaze locked on the King's. A smile pulled at her lips, happiness swelling within her chest from the thought of making her father proud. A frost tingled at her fingertips and she quickly tamped down her emotions, forcing the magic to retreat.

"I do, however," he started as he took the parchment back from his daughter, "expect a full report when I get back. What you learned and any questions you have about your experience." He folded the paper and dripped wax from a candle onto the fold before pressing his seal into the wax.

"I understand, Papa."

He smiled at his daughter. "Don't let those old windbags on the council push you around." He winked, drawing a chuckle from her.

"Elsa." Her mother's soft voice pulled the princess from her thoughts and back to the present. "Just remember to breathe, you'll do fine."

Elsa attempted to smile, but she didn't quite feel it. Her parents were her rock, her only support, and she was nervous – scared, even – to not have them close by. But it was only two weeks. She could do this, for them.

* * *

**09 October 1840 **

Elsa took a deep breath, standing just inside the door of her father's study. It had been four weeks since her parents set out for her cousin's wedding in Corona. They were now two weeks overdue to return. Sea travel was unpredictable, and there were a number of reasons that could account for their delay, but as the days dragged on and no news came, fear dug its claws in deeper and deeper.

They were okay; they had to be. There wasn't any other option.

Elsa wrapped her arms around her middle as a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature rocked through her. The council had obviously been concerned, wanting to know what she intended, what she was doing to find her parents. She assured them that a ship had been sent to look for them, and a messenger dispatched to Corona, but there had not yet been a response from either.

But that didn't mean anything. Her parents were fine.

"Your Highness?"

Elsa jumped at the sound of Kai's voice, a thin veil of frost immediately covering her gloved hands.

He retreated a step, into the hall. "My apologies, ma'am, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine, Kai." She swiped her hands against the fabric of her skirt, getting rid of the evidence. Thankfully, no one else was around.

Kai held out a letter. "This just arrived, ma'am." Even from a distance, she could see the seal of Corona pressed into the wax.

Elsa reached out to take the letter, both hopeful and dreading what was written inside. She broke the seal slowly, with a snap that seemed to echo in the study. She unfolded the letter and read the message twice, not comprehending. She looked up at Kai, brows drawn together in confusion. "This doesn't . . ." she began, before dropping her gaze to read the letter a third time.

"Ma'am?" Kai prompted softly.

"It's from Queen Arianna. She says that Mama and Papa sent their regrets months ago, that they'd not be able to attend the wedding. Corona was never expecting them." That couldn't be right; she clearly remembered her parents preparing for a journey to Corona for this wedding. But the Queen was her father's sister, and she'd have no reason to lie. Elsa turned her attention to Kai, frowning fiercely. "Did they say anything about going somewhere else?"

Kai shook his head. "No,ma'am."

Elsa looked down once more at the letter in her hands. Queen Arianna stated that despite not expecting her parents, guards had been sent to check the dock, and a scout ship to survey the surrounding ocean. Both searches had turned up nothing. The letter went on to offer well wishes and reassurances. It all rang hollow. Her parents were missing, and if Corona was to be believed – and there was no reason they shouldn't be – Elsa couldn't even be sure what direction they may have sailed in.

"Your Highness." Kai's voice broke her spiraling thoughts. He was staring at the piece of parchment clutched in her hands.

Elsa followed his gaze and saw the paper was coated in a thick layer of ice. She gasped and dropped the letter, watched as it shattered against the floor. She brought her hands to her chest, covering one with the other.

"Your orders, your Highness?" Kai pressed, as though nothing had happened.

 _Orders_? She wasn't supposed to giving orders. That was her father's job, one he was supposed to hold for another forty or fifty years. _Conceal, don't feel._ Elsa took a deep breath, mentally repeating her father's words. She had to keep it under control. She could cry when alone, when there was no one around to hurt or bear witness. "Tell Admiral Mikael to expand the search, check with the neighboring kingdoms," she said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her tone. "Tell him to keep it discreet." If other kingdoms found out they were without their monarchy, it would leave Arendelle at the mercy of others looking to expand their empire.

Elsa waited until Kai shut the door behind him before collapsing to the ground. "Mama, Papa," she whispered in a broken voice. "Where are you?" She drew her legs up to her chest as tendrils of frost leached across the floor.

* * *

**01 April 1840 **

Elsa sat at the table with her father's council of advisors, not really listening to the heated argument taking place between two of the members. It'd been six months since the King and Queen set sail. Six months since she'd last seen them. An exhaustive search had turned up nothing. Every small isle on the maps had been searched, and she'd even gone as far as looking through her father's books and notes for some hint of where they had gone, if not to Corona. But the ocean was vast, and it was growing more and more unlikely they would ever find out what had happened to her parents. Storms at sea could be sudden and devastating, and they rarely left survivors or evidence behind.

Elsa twisted her hands where they were clasped safely on her lap below the table, for fear of freezing something. She looked up when she realized the room had fallen quiet. Everyone at the table was looking at her expectantly. She cursed herself, knowing she should have been paying attention.

"Your Highness," Gregar spoke, breaking the thick silence. Gregar was in his late forties, slightly plump, with gray hairs spreading through his otherwise light brown hair. Gregar had been on the council for many years, serving to advise the King on International Affairs. "Your Highness, it's been six months with no news of the King and Queen."

Elsa gripped her hands tightly. "Thank you, I am aware of the passage of time." Her tone was harsher than it should have been, given her station, but anger was easier to control than despair, and she couldn't allow herself to sink into that dark pit. Not here.

Bishop Davynn cleared his throat and looked apologetically to the Princess. "Forgive me, your Highness, but what I believe Gregar is getting at is . . ."

Elsa had known the Bishop all her life, and he had never been a hesitant man. The fact that he was acting so now raised the hairs on the back of her neck and filled her with dread.

"After six months with no evidence or word from someone who has set sail, they are usually . . . declared lost at sea," the Bishop said, his voice thick with regret. "Since it is the King and Queen . . . it must be done by the current regent."

"Oh." Elsa's chest tightened. She was the current regent, ruling in the King's absence despite her age, because her father had wanted her to get her feet wet. It was only supposed to be two weeks. That's all. A thick silence filled the room. She had spent every passing day clinging to the tiniest bit of hope that her parents would still walk through the doors. That they'd be found alive and well. If she did this, that meant she was giving up that hope and admitting – to herself, to all of Arendelle – that they were gone. She would be making her fear real. She would be taking hope away from an entire kingdom, and from her younger sister, only fifteen years old.

She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. She simply stared at the men in front of her, feeling lost and alone.

"Your Highness?" Admiral Mikael, the Commander of Arendelle's Royal Navy, laid a light hand on the table in front of her.

Elsa startled, she opened her mouth to speak but found she couldn't. She took a breath, working to steady the anxious pounding in her chest, the cold tingling at her fingertips, and tried again. "In the absence of any news or evidence of the King and Queen in the six months since they set sail, I . . ." she stopped, swallowing thickly. "I declare King Agnarr and Queen Iduna . . . lost at sea. May God rest their souls."

She wasn't sure whether she was going to throw up or pass out, and closed her eyes for a long moment as found the last dregs of strength within her to force out the rest of the words. "There will be a ten-day mourning period followed by a . . . funeral. Admiral Mikael, please have you men . . . return to their normal patrols." Elsa balled her hands into fists, struggling to maintain control. "If you'll excuse me, gentleman. . ."

She pushed up from her chair, the council members standing with her, the Bishop bowed his head toward her. "The King is dead. Long live Queen Elsa."

 _Queen Elsa._ Something inside her snapped as the council members echoed his words. She couldn't breathe, growing more lightheaded, with an odd ringing in her ears. Holding herself together with the barest of threads, she walked out of the council chambers.

Once outside the room she all but ran through the hallway toward her own chambers. She turned the corner and crashed into someone, knocking them both to the floor.

"Elsa?"

Elsa looked at her little sister, Anna. Sprawled helplessly on the floor, the younger girl appeared ghostly, her face drained of color. Elsa's own heart broke even more.

"Elsa, what's wrong?" Anna attempted to move closer, but Elsa immediately pushed herself to her feet and backed away. She wanted to say something to her sister, to offer her some reassurance or sign of love in their shared grief but didn't trust herself to do so without breaking down. If she lost it here, now, she knew Anna would get hurt. So instead she averted her gaze and skirted around her sister without a word and escaped to the solitude of her room, her sanctuary and her prison.

"Elsa!"

She closed the door behind her and swiftly locked it, then made it halfway across the room before she crumpled to the floor. "Mama. Papa." She sobbed, folding in on herself as branches of ice frosted the floor and ran up the walls, snowflakes hung in the air, suspended by grief.

Now, she was truly alone.

* * *

Anna walked robotically through the halls of the castle. Her normally joyful demeanor had been subdued over the last six months, but she still held out hope that her parents were out there. Stranded maybe, on an island. The Admiral's men would find them and bring them home, and they would have wild stories to share. She was sure of it.

She was lost in these thoughts when a sudden coldness rushed over her, right before something ran into her hard enough to knock her down. "Hey!" She looked up at the offender only to realize it was her sister. The sister she barely saw and talked to even less. "Elsa?"

Anna didn't know her sister all that well anymore, but what she did know was Elsa had always been the picture of poise and grace. Her own tutors had remarked on this fact to Anna many times. Right now, Elsa was anything but poised. In fact, she looked as though a slight breeze would shatter her to pieces.

"Elsa, what's wrong?" Anna feared the answer. With their parents missing and no word of them as far as she was aware, she knew something must have happened. She pushed up to her knees, trying to scoot closer to her sister, but Elsa wordlessly shoved up from the floor and bolted toward her room. "Elsa!"

Anna jumped to her feet with the intention of following her sister and demanding to know what could have shattered the woman's composure so thoroughly but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Anna turned to find Gerda standing behind her, profound sadness etched into the motherly face of the matron.

"Princess, the King and Queen . . . they've been declared lost at sea."

Anna brought her hands up to her mouth, barely hearing the words the woman was saying, the news she had been tasked with delivering. "I don't understand, what does that mean?" She knew what it meant, but not what it _meant._

Gerda didn't say anything though, she didn't have to, Anna could read it on her face. It meant they were no longer looking for her parents. They'd given up the search, given up hope. She would never see her parents again. Anna's knees buckle as she slid to the floor, Gerda wrapped her arms around the young princess. "Mama, Papa," she sobbed into Gerda's shoulder.

Now, she was truly alone.


	2. Monster

**_"That's what happens when you're responsible for lives other than your own, isn't it? You do what you have to do."_ **

**\- A Court of Thorns & Roses**

* * *

**31 July 1843**

"Who's this?" Elsa demanded, but shook her head before Anna could respond. "Wait, it doesn't matter. Jus—you have to go." She took a few steps back, turning her body away from Anna and cradling her hands to her chest.

Elsa needed her sister to leave, desperately. She'd lashed out at Anna, struck her. At least, she thought she did. Last time, a sudden blast of her icy power had knocked Anna unconscious and they couldn't wake her. But Anna seemed _fine_ , and persistent, so maybe Elsa hadn't hit her. Maybe she was okay. But what was certain was that Elsa couldn't control her powers; it was only a matter of time before she injured her sister again. She wasn't safe to be around.

She pressed a hand to her head. _Conceal, don't feel._ It was no use; she could hear the ice as it grew and shifted around them.

"No." Face set, Anna took a step closer. "I know we can figure this out together—"

"How?" Elsa yelled. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as she turned back to her sister. "What power do you have to stop this winter?" She cupped her hands tightly to her chest, desperate to stop the frost building in her fingertips. "To stop me?"

The sound of shifting ice increased around them as shadowy spikes of ice climbed the walls.

"Anna, I think we should go." The man tugged at her sister, attempting to draw Anna away as he watched the shadows spread.

"No!" Anna shouted, ripping herself from his grip. "I'm not leaving without you, Elsa."

Staring into her sister's glistening eyes, Elsa felt her heart breaking. She wanted nothing more than to be with Anna, to return home with her, to fix this mess and just be _sisters_ again. But she knew that could never happen; she'd proved once and for all that she was too dangerous to be around. "Yes, you are." Elsa unfolded her hands and released the build-up she'd barely been holding back, allowing her swelling emotions to channel through the magic. Her fear, her desperation to protect her sister, her need for isolation, to be alone. She backed away as the cloud of ice and snow grew between them, taking the form of a giant snow monster.

_Don't hurt them._

The monster reached down and scooped up the man, Anna, and Olaf. With slow, heavy steps, he turned to the stairwell and carried them back to the front of the palace.

"Elsa!"

She could hear her sister struggling against the icy hand hauling her away.

"Put us down!"

Elsa pressed her hands over her ears to drown out her sister's yells. This was for the best. Anna had to leave; it wasn't safe for her to stay here. She began to pace around the room. "Get it together," she ordered herself.

_You kinda set off an eternal winter, everywhere._

She had tried so hard to conceal it, to hold her magic at bay. After it spilled out at the coronation, she thought everyone would be safer if she left, but she was wrong. The storm inside her broke free and now everyone was in danger, and it was her fault.

"Control it."

Elsa folded her arms around herself. Maybe she was exactly what they all said she was - a monster. There was no more hiding, and she didn't know what to do. She had no idea how to stop this winter.

"Don't feel, don't feel."

She had to control this; conceal, don't feel. Elsa resumed her pacing as the walls groaned and the ice darkened, turning red. She pressed her hands tighter to the sides of her head. "Don't feel, don't feel."

She spun around, noticing for the first time the spikes growing out of the walls around her, sharp and deadly. She drew into herself, fear digging its claws in deep and stealing her breath.

Fear will be your enemy, and death its consequence.

Elsa's chest tightened, leaving her feeling suffocated. She ran toward the open air of the balcony and threw open the doors. She folded over the railing and wrapped her fingers around the icy barrier until her knuckles turned white, pulling in gulps of fresh mountain air. After a moment, her chest loosened so she no longer felt like she was going to pass out.

Maybe she could run, but how far would she have to go? Would she take the storm with her or just make it spread? As long as she was here, as long as she was alive, everyone was in danger. "Oh, Papa, I tried." She was a monster. If she was dead, would they be free? She looked over the ice-covered mountains. But what if after she was . . . gone, the storm only raged harder?

Elsa tightened her grip on the ice railing before pushing away and walking determinedly back inside. If she was a monster, then she knew what she had to do. But first, she needed to fix her mistake. She had to find some way to stop this storm and bring summer back to Arendelle. She wouldn't abandon her people to a frigid fate.

She just had to—a foreign feeling rushed through Elsa. It took a moment for her to realize she could feel her snow monster tensing, as something or someone approached her ice palace. As she cautiously walked down the stairs, she heard a voice call out, but the words were taken away on the wind. She was almost at the front of the palace when she felt, rather than saw, her snow monster spring to life with a roar that filled the air. She quickly covered the distance to the door, pulling it open just in time to see the monster take a swipe at a handful of armed guards.

They'd come for her.

Elsa backed away, heart pounding, and pushed the doors closed as she made her way back toward the stairs. She felt the faint give in the ice outside her palace as they crossed her bridge. She bolted up the staircase, turning just in time to see them burst through the door. Almost without conscious effort, the ice around her shifted colors, reflecting her fear as she ran up the stairs.

She ran into the cavernous room at the top of the staircase, stopping short in the center as she realized she had backed herself into a corner.

"We got her."

Elsa spun back as she guards burst into the room. She recognized the uniforms. These weren't Arendelle's guards; they were Weselton's. She held up her hands but kept them low, hoping to ward them off before things got out of control. Or, even more out of control. "No, please."

One of the guards leveled his crossbow at her. She heard the click of an arrow and threw her hands up, knowing it wouldn't save her. When she didn't feel the piercing pain in her chest, Elsa chanced opening her eyes, shocked to see the bolt had been stopped no more than an inch from her face, held back by a wall of ice.

They intended to kill her.

"Go around. Toss it!" The guards circled her, one tossing an arrow to the other.

"Stay away." She went on the offensive, sending a spray of ice along the floor at them, trying to knock them off balance.

"Look out!" The guard jumped over the ice and managed to roll back to his feet. The second guard gained his feet much faster than his friend and took aim.

"Fire, fire!"

Elsa shot ice his way, knocking him off his feet as the first guard circled around behind her. She quickly redirected another blast of ice toward him, creating a thin, low wall between them. Panic mixed with anger, constricting her chest, making it difficult to breathe. These men were forcing her to do things she'd never anticipated, to use her magic to defend herself.

"Get her!"

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears and adrenaline coursed through her. Elsa threw her hands out to either side as the guards slowly circled her. Her attention whipped back and forth as she tried to keep both men in her sight, waiting for someone to make a move. She wouldn't let them catch her off-guard. The first guard lifted his crossbow, just a fraction, and Elsa snapped her arm out, raising icy spikes from the ground with lightning quickness. The guard was pinned to the wall, a razor-sharp spike resting near his throat.

The second guard move behind her and she waited for him to get into position before releasing a burst of ice. The ice slammed into his crossbow, knocking it from his hands. The man stumbled from the attack, then turned to run. Elsa swept her hand upwards, raising a wall of ice to block his path. She wasn't going to let him escape. He tried to change directions, and she repeated the action. Having trapped the guard between two walls of ice, Elsa summoned a third to press him toward the balcony doors. She channeled even more power into the wall, until her beautiful balcony doors cracked and shattered under the pressure. The guard was knocked to the ground, but she didn't stop. She didn't want to fight, but she was not going to allow these men to kill her in her own home.

Her vision clouded as she pressed even harder. The sharp, icy spike moving closer to the first guard's neck, and the wall pushing the second guard closer to the edge.

"Queen Elsa!"

She ignored the call, adrenaline and anger fueling her magic.

"Don't be the monster they fear you are."

Elsa's head snapped in the direction of the speaker, face twisting in anger as the Prince's words sunk in. They thought she was a monster, and she was proving them right. She dropped her arms, and the magical attacks. She panted heavily, releasing the rage that she had let herself sink into.

As the ice spikes began to retreat, the first guard lifted his crossbow once more, lining up a shot. Elsa saw Hans move, redirecting the bolt from her. Then she felt it, the snap of delicate ice in the chandelier hanging above their heads. She looked up just in time to see it coming down.

She scrambled to get out of its path, knowing if it landed on her, that would be it. The chandelier slammed into the ground just behind her, knocking her off her feet. Elsa hit the ground and slid, her head exploding with pain. A flash of white burst behind her eyelids just before everything faded to black.


	3. Before I Sleep

_**"Promise me, that no matter how well your eyes adjust to this darkness, you'll never mistake it for light."** _

**-srwpoetry**

* * *

**02 August 1843**

Elsa stood in front of a large white door, wringing her hands as nerves got the better of her. She took a step back and almost walked away but stopped. She turned back to the intimidating door.

She should just go to bed; her head pounded mercilessly, an offbeat cadence that combined with her racing heart was beginning to cause her to feel nauseous. Her entire body ached like she attempted to outrun a falling chandelier and failed. The last seventy-two hours had been a nonstop, whirlwind of emotions. _God, has it really only been three days?_

She could all-too easily recall the feeling of standing on the deck of that ship in the middle of the fjord after she'd thawed Arendelle, holding her sister tightly. After thirteen long years of isolation, years spent avoiding touching anyone for fear of hurting them, to just _hold_ her little sister had been more freeing than when she'd first fled from the castle. She had wanted the moment to last forever, but duty called, and she had no choice but to answer.

There had been a flurry of activity once they all made it back to dry land. People celebrated the return of summer, Prince Hans was arrested, there was shock over the talking snowman, and a never-ending line of so many questions that demanded answers. But standing on the pier with the fjord at her back was no place to give the kind of response the people of Arendelle wanted from her.

Elsa needed time to come to terms with everything that had happened and construct careful answers for her people, not to mention the visiting dignitaries. She needed time to spend with her sister, to get to know the woman who'd saved them all. She needed time to _sleep_.

It had taken a full guard to escort Elsa and the others back to the castle, she and Anna walking hand in hand. She didn't want to even loosen her hold on her little sister's hand, but once inside the castle they ended up whisked away in different directions. Anna had frozen to death out on the ice, and while she seemed to be fine now, Elsa wouldn't be satisfied until the royal physician gave her a clean bill of health. Despite not wanting to give Anna up, she needed to be sure her sister was okay. Also, she needed to meet with her council members and begin damage control.

Elsa told her sister they would only be separated for an hour or so, but fate seemed determined to make a liar out of her. The meeting with her council stretched far into the evening.

After Elsa spent a good twenty minutes assuring her advisors that she did in fact have control over her powers and answering questions about what she could and could not do with them, they moved on to the events that took place during the Queen's Eternal Winter.

"And what of Prince Hans?" Gregar Alfson asked, just as Elsa dared to think the meeting was winding down.

"He should be executed for his crime," spat Admiral Mikael, his lip curled with disdain.

"He's a Prince of another country," Gregar protested.

"He left our princess to die and tried to kill our Queen," argued the Admiral.

Gregar shook his head. "An execution, no matter how just, could cause an international incident. One we can _now_ ill afford."

Elsa winced at councilor's words, but he wasn't wrong. Arendelle had been thawed for mere hours, and with dignitaries, ambassadors and royalty from other countries visiting, there was no way of knowing the far-reaching damage her storm may have caused.

There was no precedent for this sort of thing. Her father had worked to prepare Elsa for her future role as Queen, had taught her how to handle various events and catastrophes, but in all her lessons they had never covered what to do when you panic and accidently bury the kingdom under twenty feet of ice and snow. They were playing things by ear and honestly, she was just grateful no one had decided to try her as a witch and burn her at the stake. Monarchs of the past had been executed for far less.

 _There's still time,_ a small unwanted voice echoed from somewhere in the back of her mind and suddenly, Elsa felt faint. She swallowed thickly and returned her attention to the conversation at hand, desperate to distract herself from the morbid thoughts. "Gentlemen," she said, calmly cutting off the ongoing argument. "Prince Hans will remain comfortably confined until we can commission a ship to return him to the Southern Isle."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but are you sure it's wise to just let him go?" asked Halstein Dal, the young gentleman in charge of Arendelle's treasury.

"We will not be _just_ letting him go," Elsa said. "A full account of his crimes will be sent with him, along with a request that the King of the Southern Isle administer judgement for those crimes. It may not be . . . ideal, but it is the best way to avoid any unnecessary complications between our kingdoms."

Halstein nodded, and the rest of the council members seemed satisfied with the answer, or at least didn't feel the need to argue it any further. They then briefly discussed the fate of two guards from Weselton that Hans had apparently put in the dungeon after they had brought Elsa down from the North Mountain. She didn't want to do anything with them yet, not until she spoke with the Duke. From what Anna and the council members had told her, Elsa was positive that the Duke had ordered his men to kill her, but she couldn't go around accusing people without proof.

"Is there anything else?" She was sure she was missing something, but the throbbing in her head was making it hard to think clearly.

Bjarke Ericson, advisor for Arendelle's trades and guilds, leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. "Just one, Your Majesty."

That one issue, of course, turned into many more topics, including a very long discussion revolving around the loss of tradable goods that had been given away to keep the people of Arendelle warm, and the possible damage the cold may have done to the town's food supply. Any plans the council decided on were theoretical until they knew more.

After hours of talking in circles, the exhaustion that had been building over the last three days finally caught up with Elsa, and she put an end to the meeting, stating they'd reconvene in a few days once they had a better idea of the damage they were looking at.

Now, she stood in front of a tall white door painted with yellow flowers and blue designs, wringing her ungloved hands. Tendrils of ice seeped from her fingertips, and the magic buzzing just below the surface of her skin had her breath catching in her chest. She felt more nervous and unsure now than she did in the days leading up to her coronation. She'd waited thirteen years for this moment, for this chance to be close with her sister again, to see her, to get to know her, and be a family again.

So why was this so hard?

Because a queen could change the rules, but not the reasons they were in place, and it was dangerous to believe nothing like this would happen again. Elsa put a hand to her head, feeling dizzy. Her chest tightened, her stomach roiled, and she turned once more from the door. Maybe Anna would be better off if they just kept their distance.

She had assured the council that her magic was under control, but that wasn't entirely true. She could dismiss the snow and ice she inadvertently made as her emotions swung, but she couldn't be sure it wouldn't come out unwanted. Her magic had nearly killed Anna when they were children and _did_ kill her just that day. What if things got out of control and she caused real, irreparable damage? She couldn't bear the thought of hurting her sister again, but no matter her intentions it seemed she was doomed to do just that.

 _Oh god._ Elsa's breath hitched, and she placed a hand over her mouth at the sudden realization, as the weight of what had happened crashed through her like a tidal wave. She _killed_ her sister. She'd lashed out and froze Anna's heart, then left her to slowly freeze to death. The acknowledgement sent a crack through her meticulously crafted shield and everything that had taken place, those things she had tried to lock tightly away bubbled to the surface and slammed into her with the force of a sudden winter storm.

She couldn't breathe at all. Elsa pressed her hand to her chest and told herself to calm down but couldn't seem to get enough air. Spots floated in her vision and her heart pounded in her ears. Frost collected in her palms as she wrapped her arms around her stomach, fingers digging into her sides.

"Don't feel, don't feel," she mumbled the well-worn mantra between clipped, shallow breaths.

Elsa stumbled against the wall and frost spread across the surface. Her knees trembled, refusing to hold her weight and wanting to drop her to the floor, but she couldn't do this here. Not in the hallway, and certainly not in front of her sister's room. She was going to hurt someone.

She pushed off the wall, needing to move. She had to keep moving, or she would drown in her own thoughts. Ice spread out from under every footstep, which only served to shift her anxiety up another few gears as she was reminded of the control she needed to maintain on her emotions. The control she was rapidly losing.

"Come on, get it together." Lost within her own spiraling thoughts, Elsa missed the soft footsteps on the carpet behind her until it was too late.

"Elsa?" A voice cut through the growing haze, and her panic spiked.


	4. Promises to Keep

_**It’s hard to wait around for something you know might never happened; but it's harder to give up when you know it’s everything you want.** _

-unknown

* * *

**02 August 1843**

Anna chewed her lip as she made her way to her room, battered by a mix of emotions as she dwelled on recent events. Her world had changed so much in such a short amount of time. Over the course of three days she’d found love, had her heart broken, froze to death _,_ and found love again. This time, though, she wouldn’t rush into things. Of course, the biggest revelation in the past seventy-two hours was that her sister, who she had barely talked to, let alone _seen_ in thirteen years had a magical power to create ice and snow at will.

She was still trying to wrap her mind around that one. Out of all the secrets that her sister could have been keeping, magical powers didn’t make the top fifty. Anna’s pace slowed as a realization struck her: her parents must have known about Elsa’s magic. But if they did, why did they all keep it from her? Why was she the only one not to know? A frown pulled at her mouth. Did they not trust her? What had they been afraid she’d do?

Anna forced the dark thoughts away. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. She could ask Elsa, if that was even an option. Her sister seemed happy enough to be reunited, happier than Anna had ever seen her, actually. On their way back to the castle from the fjord, they had stuck close together, Elsa very nearly clinging to her. Her sister had seemed reluctant to let her go but told Anna she needed to be seen by the royal physician to ensure there were no lasting issues from her freezing. Kristoff had supported the idea, though Anna wasn’t sure whether he truly did or was just too afraid of Elsa to disagree with her. Maybe a little of both.

The physician gave her a clean bill of health but recommended she take it easy for the next few days. Kristoff met her outside the room, and his relief at hearing she was okay was more genuine than any single moment she’d spent with Hans. They spent the next few hours idly talking about everything and nothing, as Anna waited for her sister to finish meeting with the royal council. Elsa had promised she’d only be gone for a few hours, but as the day slowly sank toward evening, Anna was forced to wonder whether anything had really changed. She wanted to believe it had, clinging to the memory of her sister’s smile and the desperate way Elsa had hugged her. Anna used that memory to fuel the hope she felt, but the lack of her sister’s presence gnawed at her, planting seeds of doubt in her typically optimistic mind.

At some point, Kristoff drifted off and Anna unloaded him on Kai, asking the man to show the ice harvester to a room. Kristoff made some rote protests about not going through the trouble, but he was just as exhausted from the last few days as Anna, and eventually gave in without much of a fight.

With Sven and Olaf hanging out in the stables, Anna found herself roaming the castle halls, exhausted but too wound up to sleep. She eventually found herself walking past the council chambers and was excited to see the room empty. Hopefully, that meant her sister was finally free.

Anna was sure Elsa was just as tired as she, if not more, and was probably in bed. Now that she really thought about it, Elsa had a lot of time unaccounted for over the last three days, and Anna wasn’t entirely sure what all had happened to her older sister. She knew Elsa had gone to the north mountain and built a beautiful castle made of ice, created Olaf and a snow monster, and then somehow ended up in the middle of the frozen fjord with Hans.

When Anna asked her sister to return with her to Arendelle, Elsa had been adamant in her refusal and kicked them out of the ice palace. She couldn’t help but wonder what finally convinced Elsa to come down from the mountain, and what events led her to be kneeling in the middle of a frozen fjord with Hans, moments from . . .

A chill slipped down Anna’s spine. She’d almost lost her sister. She rubbed her arms, and it took a moment to realize the cold she was feeling wasn’t due to the memory, but a very real chill in the hallway. It was so cold she could see her breath misting. There was only one possible reason so a natural drop in temperature this sudden and severe, and indoors.

She turned the corner and found Elsa pacing in front of the door to her room, which wasn’t nearly as worrisome as the biting cold in the air or the tiny snowflakes falling in swirls around her sister.

“Come on,” she could hear Elsa mutter under her breath. “Get it together.”

Anna stepped toward the older woman, unsure what could be causing this storm. After the stress of the last few days it could be quite literally anything. “Elsa?”

Elsa’s head whipped over, her eyes going wide. “Anna, no, you can’t—”

Even from a few feet away, Anna could tell her sister was breathing to fast. She stepped closer, feeling an overwhelming need to break her sister out of whatever was causing her to lose control of her magic.

Elsa stumbled back, bumping into the wall. A pattern of ice exploded where her shoulder hit. “Anna, it’s not . . . it’s not safe. You should go.”

Anna held her hands up placatingly, distinctly remembering what had happened in the ice palace. There, she had pushed her sister too hard, and too fast, ignoring the glaringly obvious signs that were literally swirling around her. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. This time, she took note of the snow falling around her sister; a gentle drop of fat flakes, nothing like the violent, storming swirl at the ice palace.

“Elsa.” Anna said softly, “I’m not going to push you to do something you don’t want to. But I’m not gonna just leave you either.” She took a cautious step, so that she was now within arm’s reach. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

Elsa pressed against the wall, cupping her hands tightly to her chest. “Anna.” Her breath hitched, and icy tears leaked down her cheeks. Neither woman spoke for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” she finally choked out, her knees giving way as she sunk down to the floor, hands covering her face. She curled in on herself, until her forehead touched her knees.

Watching her big sister – always so calm and composed – come apart in front of her, Anna’s heart broke. She hesitated; she didn’t want to make things worse, but she couldn’t do nothing. Slowly, she slid down to the floor next to her sister, feeling a pang of hurt as Elsa flinched.

Anna lifted an arm and tentatively put it around her sister’s shoulders. Elsa tensed, resisting at first before letting Anna pull her close. Her sister’s head dropped to her shoulder, and Anna pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back and murmuring soft words of encouragement to let it all out. She wasn’t sure what _it_ was but figured right now the specifics weren’t actually important.

They sat like that in the hallway of the residency wing of the castle until the flurries faded away and the sounds of her sister’s muffled crying faded with them. Anna wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but she knew she needed to move her sister out of the hallway. The residency was quiet this time of night, but the last thing Elsa needed was someone to see her in this state.

“Elsa?” She leaned in, trying to see her sister’s face. It was red and blotchy, with icy trails cutting paths down her cheeks. “Come on, let’s get you inside the room.” She gently took her sisters hands and pulled her to her feet. 

Elsa looked in the direction of her own room, but Anna tugged on her hands. There was no way she was going to allow her sister to retreat to her room alone. She gave Elsa’s fingers a comforting squeeze and led her into her own room. Which was a mess, Anna realized with a scrunch of her nose. She guided Elsa to a couch near the fire and gently pushed her to the cushions before taking a seat beside her. “You wanna talk about it?”

Elsa pulled her hands in close to her stomach, wringing them. “Anna . . .” She fixed her gaze on the fire burning in the hearth. “I’m sorry, I . . .” She shoved up off the couch and began to pace. “I killed you, Anna! I froze your heart and you . . .” She sucked in a sharp breath, pressing her fingertips to her temples.

“It was an accident,” Anna insisted calmly, noting the temperature drop of the room. There was no sign of ice or snow, she could do this; she could talk Elsa down. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

“And yet I still hurt you,” Elsa said, defeat in her voice. Her shoulders fell. “Maybe it’d be better to keep our distance that way—”

“No.” Anna jumped up out of her seat and crossed the short distance to her sister, taking her icy hands into her own. “No, that’s not the answer. Isolating yourself only made things worse. And besides, it’s too late. I know what’s going on now and there is no way I’m ever letting you shut me out again. So, you know, you’re just stuck with me.” She tightened her grip on Elsa’s hands. “We’ll get through this together, Elsa.”

Tears welled in her sister’s eyes, but she smiled gratefully. The temperature of the room rose, warmed by the cracking fire, and the tension in Elsa’s shoulders melt away.

Anna ran her thumb over Elsa’s hand, memorizing the feel of her sister’s fingers clutched in her own. She was really with her sister again. “Now, I don’t know about you but . . .” It was then that she noticed a strange red mark around Elsa’s finger. Anna shifted her hold, spotting an angry red ring encircling each of her sister’s fingers, and matching marks at her wrist, where it even looked as though the skin may have been broken. “Elsa, what are these marks?”

Elsa looked down at her hands and immediately tried to draw them away. Anna only tightened her grip. “Elsa?”

Her sister looked ready to run. Instead, she spoke. “They’re . . . they’re from a . . . a pair of specially made shackles that were in the dungeon.”

“A what?” Anna’s eyes went wide. “Why were you shackled or even in the dungeon? How?”

Elsa bit her lower lip, looking conflicted. “Anna, it’s a really long story. I promise I will tell you everything, if you want to hear it. But can we talk in the morning?”

Anna realized then exactly how worn out her sister looked. And as soon as she did, her own body sagged with exhaustion. She knew that no matter how badly she wanted to know what had happened, Elsa was safe, here with her. They both needed rest; details could wait a few more hours. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You promise you’ll tell me? No more secrets?”

Elsa curled her fingers around Anna’s. “I promise. No more secrets.”


	5. Unbreakable Walls Break

**Let me hold the door for you.  
I may have never walked a mile in your shoes, but I can see that your soles are worn  
and your strength is torn under the weight of a story I have never lived before.  
So, let me hold the door for you.  
After all you’ve walked through, it’s the least I can do.  
-Morgan Harper Nichols**

* * *

**03 August 1843**

Anna stretched her arms over her head, leaning into a patch of sunlight allowed by a gap in the curtains. She pulled herself upright, digging a palm against her eyes. A good night’s sleep had done wonders to ease the aches and weariness from the previous day. She stretched once more, startling as her elbow bumped a warm body at her side.

She found her sister curled there, her back to Anna. She turned to the window, squinting at the sunlight streaming into the room. It had to be nearing noon, but her sister seemed to still be deeply asleep.

She didn’t know much about the woman lying next to her, and most of what Anna _did_ know came from years of offhand comments made by her parents and tutors. Whenever her tutors felt Anna was falling behind – which was often – they'd compare her progress to Elsa’s. Growing up, she had mixed feelings about the comparison. On the one hand, she hated it. She wasn’t Elsa and she wasn’t ever going to be Queen, so there was no reason for her to learn even _half_ of what her sister had to. But at the same time, the side remarks and comments gave Anna tiny insights into a sister she hardly saw and never spent real time with, and she treasured every tidbit she was offered.

One of the most common comparisons was regarding how late in the day Anna would get up, while her sister was always up with the sun. The fact that Elsa was still fast asleep spoke volumes to how exhausted she must have been from everything that had transpired, and made Anna wonder even more what exactly happened up on that mountain.

A knock at the door drew Anna’s attention and a sleepy groan from Elsa, who burrowed her tousled head into her pillow. Anna quickly slid out of bed and hurried to answer the door before another knock woke her sister. She found the Royal Physician, Malthe, on the other side, his fist raised to knock again.

“Your Highness,” he said with a bow. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling any ill effects from . . . yesterday’s events.”

Anna shook her head. _Was it really only yesterday?_ So much had happened in such a short amount of time, it was hard to wrap her head around it all. But Elsa was safe, and she was safe, and they were sisters again. She smiled widely. “No ill effects. I honestly couldn’t be better.”

The physician dipped his head. “I’m glad to hear that, ma’am.” He turned to leave but paused, a look of worry and hesitation crossing his face.

Anna felt the start of a knot form in her stomach. “Malthe? Is everything okay?”

“Of course, Your Highness. I was just wondering if you happened to know where the Queen might be? She wasn’t in her quarters, and neither Gerda nor Kai have seen her.”

“Oh.” Anna was surprised to hear she was the last stop to look for Elsa, but maybe she shouldn’t be. Before this morning, there was no reason to think she would know her sister’s whereabouts. “She fell asleep in here last night.” Anna glanced over her shoulder at the unmoving lump on her bed. “She’s still asleep.”

An amusing look of shock crossed Malthe’s face, to be swiftly replaced by deep lines of worry.

That knot in Anna’s stomach tightened more. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing . . . ”

“But?” Anna pressed.

“When the Queen was brought down the from the North Mountain and back to Arendelle, she had sustained a blow to the head. I wasn’t able to wake her at the time and could do no more than clean the wound before Prince Hans had Her Majesty moved to the dungeon. In the wake of everything that happened after, I’m afraid I wasn’t able to follow up and make ensure she was okay.”

The knot squeezed the breath from Anna’s lungs. “She didn’t say anything.” She looked back toward her slumbering sister with newfound worry for Elsa’s stillness.

“She may not have been aware of the injury, save for a headache and mild dizziness. If it is possible, and Her Majesty permits it, I would like to check her over.”

Anna nodded. “Of course. Let me wake her.” She shut the door and crossed to the bed. Now that she was looking for it, she saw the lines of pain around Elsa’s eyes, the small frown on her face, which was noticeably pale, paler than her already fair complexion.

“Elsa?” She waited for a response, but there was none. She sank to the mattress next to her sister and placed a hand on Elsa’s shoulder. She called her name again, and the only answer was a deepening frown. Worry gnawed at Anna, building like pressure in her chest. She shook her sister harder. “Elsa!”

A sleepy groan escaped the Queen’s lips as her eyes opened, blinking like her lids weighed a hundred pounds. “Anna?” she asked, her voice heavily slurred.

Anna sighed with relief. “Hey, there you are.” Her relief was short-lived, however, as her sister appeared to struggle with waking, her gaze unfocused and glazed, the small lines of pain around her eyes deepening. “Elsa, are you okay?”

Elsa pressed her fingertips against her left temple, and a bit of ice sparked where she made contact. She rolled onto her back, squeezing her eyes shut and shifting her hand to her forehead.

Anna bit her lip and placed a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder, hating that the contact drew a flinch. “Physician Malthe is just outside. He said you hit your head yesterday. I think you should have him check you out. Make sure everything is okay.” Her gaze fell to Elsa’s hand, where the angry red ring from the night before had been swallowed by dark purple bruising that fully encircled her wrist. Her fingers were fairing only slightly better. “Your hands, as well. Do you think you’re up for that?”

Elsa didn’t answer but dropped her hands to the bed and started to push herself upright. Anna quickly hopped off the bed and helped her sister into a sitting position, feeling the muscles in the older woman’s back jump as she placed her hands there.

Once upright, Elsa took a few slow breaths, looking slightly green and in a fair amount of pain. “Send him in,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed.

The doctor politely asked Anna to wait outside the room during the exam, in order to give the Queen some privacy. Anna did so reluctantly, wringing her hands as she paced in front of the door. Thankfully, the exam didn't take more than a few minutes; Anna wasn't sure how long she'd have lasted in the hallway.

It certainly felt long enough before Malthe exited the room and closed the door softly behind him. “She will be fine,” he was quick to assure Anna. “There is some mild swelling and bruising around the queen’s wrists and fingers that may make it uncomfortable to use her hands over the next few days, but it will resolve on its own with no lasting effects. I left a balm with Her Majesty to help with the pain and stiffness.”

A chill ran down Anna’s spine as she remembered the vague explanation Elsa had given for the bruises. Shackles, the castle’s dungeon. She had so many questions about those simple words. Like, why was her sister, the _queen_ , in her own dungeon? And what did Elsa mean when she said _specially made shackles?_ Specially made for _who?_ Anna cast the thoughts aside for the moment, focusing on what the doctor was telling her.

“Unfortunately,” Malthe continued, “it seems I was right about the severity of her head injury. I’ll have the kitchen staff send up a tea that should ease her headache, but she is still dealing with a fair amount of dizziness and appears to have a difficult time focusing, along with some confusion.”

“But she was fine last night,” Anna said. “I mean, she was obviously tired, but . . .”

“With this degree of head injury, it's not uncommon for symptoms to take a day or two to present, and then linger for quite some time after.”

“But she’ll be okay, right?”

Malthe smiled kindly. “Yes, Your Highness. I believe the queen will be okay. The physician looked, once more, like he had more to say but was unsure how to say it.

The look sank Anna’s heart and spirits. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

He nodded. “It’s regarding the queen’s magic. I must confess to you, I have known about her powers since they first manifested.”

Anna managed to keep her flinch internal, but it felt like a punch to the gut. it made sense that the castle’s physician – who had delivered both she and her sister and had been their doctor their entire lives – would know about Elsa’s power, but hearing it said out loud caused Anna to wonder who else among the staff knew. And why, when it had been hidden so long from her. The thought hurt more than she would ever admit out loud.

“At your father’s request, I did as much research into her magic as I could,” Malthe continued. “While there was very little information to uncover, something that became very apparent to me was an emotional and mental component to the Queen’s powers. Both of which tend to be rather. . . unstable following head injuries of this severity. Even for those of us without magic.”

Anna frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t be sure, and these may very well just be the worries of an old man, but there is a chance that Her Majesty’s inability to focus combined with the confusion could cause her magic to become unstable as well. Because of this, and I hate to use this phrasing, Your Highness, but given the potential danger her magic could pose when not controlled, it is imperative that she rests. Sleep is going to be the best thing for her right now. I recommend she stay in bed for the next few days, at least, and depending on how she feels after, perhaps some light work for the next week.” Malthe’s expression was serious, his jaw set. “I strongly urge she avoid any sort of stressful activities for the next two weeks at minimum, if not longer.”

Anna chewed on her lip, nodded. Okay. Keep Elsa in bed for the next three days and not allow stressful situations for two weeks. She didn’t know much about her sister, but she knew Elsa was a very intelligent woman. Surely, she would understand her situation.

Following the doctor’s orders shouldn't be that hard.

* * *

**04 August 1843**

It was nearly impossible. Anna was quickly learning that her sister was as stubborn as she was smart.

She had walked back into her room to find Elsa sitting up in bed with her feet on the floor like she thought she was going somewhere, but hunched over and pressing a hand to her head as though it was in danger of roll off her shoulders. It had taken Anna a solid thirty minutes to convince her sister to lay back down and rest, and she was pretty sure she'd only won because Elsa looked to be one sudden motion from throwing up everything she'd ever eaten.

The prescribed respite lasted only until the next morning, when Anna woke to find her sister already gone from the room and in her study. She now stood with her arms crossed over her chest staring down Elsa with a look she hoped was equal parts concern and annoyance. “Elsa, the physician said you should stay in bed for a few days. _Days._ Plural.”

Elsa was hunched over her desk, head resting in the palm of one hand and a pen in the other as she squinted down at a report on the desk. “Anna, I know you are trying to help.” She spoke calmly but Anna could hear the pain in her sister’s voice. “But there are things that need to be taken care of. There are dignitaries in the castle, and ships that need repaired so they can go home. Not to mention the surveys that must be conducted to assess the full extent of damage caused by my storm.” She dropped her pen to the desktop and pressed her fingertips to her temples, her eyes sliding shut. “I don't have time to take off for a bump on the head.”

“Bump? Pretty sure Physician Malthe used the words _severe injury._ ”

“Your Majesty?” Kai stepped into the room with a knock on the doorframe.

Elsa dropped her hands from her head, her expression immediately shifting into something more regal, neutral, though Anna could still see a twist of pain in her features. “Yes?”

Kai crossed the room and handed her a folded piece of paper. “One of the guards brought this back. A survey from the farms on the western hills.”

“Thank you, Kai,” Elsa said, accepted the paper.

His duty was done, but Kai hesitated. “Ma'am, would you like anything sent up?”

Elsa’s shoulder slumped. “Coffee would be great, Kai. Thank you.”

He tipped his head and left the room, throwing Anna a worried look on his way.

She waited until she was alone with her sister before commenting. “See? Even Kai knows you shouldn't be working right now.”

“Anna,” Elsa said in a warning tone as she slowly unfolded the parchment.

“I could get the staff to help me.”

Elsa looked up at her sister, a weak but amused smile tugging at her mouth. “To conspire against me?”

Anna lifted a shoulder. “If I have to.”

“That would be treason,” Elsa said, turning her focus to the paper in front of her.

“You’re impossible.”

“It's been said.”

Anna dropped her hands to her side, shoulders slumping as she stepped forward and flopped into the chair in front of her sister’s large desk. “Elsa, I really think--"

She cut herself off as the temperature of the room plummeted and what little color was left drained from Elsa's face. A thin sheet of frost spread out from the floor underneath the desk.

Anna straightened; her fingers gripped the arms of the chair. “Elsa? What's wrong?” She watched with worry as what little color her sister had left drained from her face as she read through the report.

Elsa let the paper drop to the desk and once more pressed her hands against her forehead, her face twisting up in pain.

Anna hesitated, knowing it wasn’t technically her place to do so, but reached across the desk and picked up the report. It looked to be a list of some kind.

_Survey of farms and families on the West Hills.  
Berg Farm  
Deaths – 0  
Injury – 0  
Property – No damage  
Livestock – No deaths  
Crops – Ruined_

_Halvorsen Farm  
Deaths – 0  
Injury – 0  
Property – Collapsed Shed  
Livestock – No deaths  
Crops – Ruined_

_Haugen Farm  
Deaths – 0  
Injury – 0  
Property – Damaged fence, damaged barn roof  
Livestock – 2 calves  
Crops – Ruined_

_Olsen Farm  
Deaths – 0  
Injury – Broken wrist, eldest son  
Property – No damage  
Livestock – No deaths  
Crops – Ruined_

_Eriksen Farm  
Deaths – 0  
Injury – 0  
Property – No damage  
Livestock – 3 hens, one rooster dead. Approx. 3 dozen eggs lost  
Crops – Ruined_

Anna’s heart dropped as she read the list. While the damage caused was easily enough repaired or replaced, there were more worrisome items on the list. Items like the ruined crops. Entire farmland decimated. Suddenly, she could understand her sister’s intense reaction. The west hills were on Arendelle’s outer edges, and if those crops had been ruined, then it was likely none from more central farms made it through the storm either. The implications something Anna did not want to think about now.

She dropped the paper to the desk, watching as her sister’s face twisted tightly in pain. Elsa held her head in her hands, her chest jumping with strained, shallow breaths. A creaking of spreading frost sounded faintly underfoot, and Anna remembered what the physician warned her about. Receiving news of ruined, lost crops was the exact opposite of avoiding stress. There was a chance someone could get hurt if Elsa lost control, and that was something her sister did not need piled onto her shoulders right now.

Anna rose from her chair and moved to the other side of the desk. She knelt at her sister’s side and placed a hand on her chilly arm. “Elsa?”


	6. Blood In the Water

**I don't blame anyone.**

**I did this myself.**

**It's my fault.**

**Everything is my fault.**

* * *

**04 August 1843**

When Elsa woke with her sister sprawled next to her, she wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and relax for once, a feeling that was only reinforced by the fact her head ached so badly she wasn't sure whether she'd vomit before or after her skull cracked open.

She was having a hard time remembering the anything about the previous day. Bits and pieces of her sister and a brief visit with the royal physician – an exam that turned into a foggy study in torture – but did have a vague recollection of his recommendation that she stay in bed, rest, and most importantly, avoid stress.

Avoid stress, for at least two weeks. He had to repeat it multiple times before it settled into Elsa's muddled brain. After it did, she wanted to laugh. She would have, if not for the headache.

Despite her physician's well-meaning advice, she knew bed rest was not an option, not with the mess she had created, the mess she now had to clean up. Elsa had acted as Queen since the day her parents left, due to the decree from her father, but now that she had been anointed Arendelle's reigning leader there was so much more expected of her, a plethora of official duties that she alone could see to. She had spent her entire life preparing for this, and she wasn't about to allow a bump on the head to keep her from fulfilling her sworn duty.

She remembered what her father had told her once, during a lesson about the myriad stresses that came with an absolute monarchy. He told her that she would be responsible for making seemingly impossible decisions that no one else could, and the consequences of each decision she made as Queen would rest solely upon her shoulders, for better or for worse. The pressure had seemed immense and stifling.

 _You endure what is unbearable,_ he had told her _, and you bear it. That is all._

The simplicity of her father's words had always stuck with Elsa. She knew then that when it was time for her to be Queen, she would make those impossible decisions not matter how difficult it might be, because there was no one else to do it.

It was only at her sister's unrelenting insistence, and emotional blackmail, that kept her in bed yesterday. Well, that and the realization she wasn't actually going to get any work done with her head spinning as it was, leaving her unable to focus on anything for more than a few seconds without wanting to cry, throw up, and pass out. In that order.

But she refused to spend another day laying around, being lazy, there were far too many things that needed to get done. The kingdom had just been through a major event, a crisis of her own doing, if she didn't keep a tight hold on everything, it would spiral out of control, beyond her grasp. The consequences of which could cost her and her sister their very lives and leave Arendelle with an uncertain future. She had to stay ahead of it all.

It was with that thought in mind that she slid out of bed this morning, careful not to wake her sister. She didn't have anywhere near the energy necessary to argue with Anna today. Elsa's feet hit the floor and the world tilted. She paused, gripping the edge of the mattress as she took slow, shallow breaths and waited for the room to settle. Once it did – mostly – she stood and slowly made her way from Anna's room to her own.

Having spent years in isolation afraid to touch anyone for fear of causing them harm, Queen Elsa was far more adept than most royals at getting herself ready for the day. But for the first time since she was seven, she summoned Gerda to help her through her morning routine. The process took longer than she liked, and each time a wave of dizziness struck she had to stop moving till everything settled again. The dizziness almost took her to the floor on two different occasions, Gerda's surprisingly quick reflexes were the only thing that kept her on her feet. She could see the concern written clearly across the matron's face each time she asked if she should fetch the physician.

Elsa brushed off the suggestion and insisted it was only minor dizziness, which wasn't a lie, per se, but more an understated truth. As a compromise, she allowed the matron to apply some cream and wrap loose gauze around her raw and bruised wrists. There wasn't much to be done about the marks encircling her fingers, which were stiff and sore but had fared far better than her wrists. She was surprised to see the bruising and broken skin there; she hadn't even been aware of the damage she had done to herself in her struggle to escape the dungeon. In that moment, the safety of her sister and the people of Arendelle had been the only things on her mind. Of course, the guards trying to beat down the frozen dungeon doors hadn't helped to ease her panic or anxiety.

Once she finally looked presentable Elsa made her way to her study and got to work. Within an hour, she was utterly miserable. Her back ached from hunching over the desk, the pounding in her head increased with each document she perused, and her vision swam if she moved too quickly, causing her stomach to churn in such a way she was sure the tea she'd been nursing was about to come back up. Even worse, as the minutes dragged on and her control waned, her magic slowly grew more unstable, until ice collected on the floor around her feet and she accidentally frozen her inkwell more times then she could count. Banishing the ice was taking more out of her than she had to give, and she was sure a chill hung in the air of the room.

Around noon her sister stormed in, red-faced and upset that she wasn't in bed. They went back and forth, Anna insistent that Elsa take the few days off the doctor had recommended. Elsa loved her sister dearly and would do anything for her, but she just couldn't sit back and do nothing, and she told Anna as much as calmly as she could manage with her head aching like it was.

Anna wouldn't have it and seemed to be ramping up for a second go when Kai interrupted with a report from one of the guards who had been surveying the farms on the West Hills. Elsa idly listened as Anna railed on, running her tired gaze over the report. The further she read, the more her sister's voice faded, until it was lost completely as a rushing sound filled her ears. The status of every farm included the same words: c _rops: ruined_.

Elsa felt light-headed, her chest tightening until she could no longer draw a breath. If the West Hills didn't make it, then there was strong reason to believe _none_ of the central farms made it through the storm.

If that was the case, then the kingdom would be struggling to feed itself come winter, and it was all her fault.

In a detached sort of way, Elsa felt her control give way entirely, and her magic seep out. She struggled to reign it in, but a massive spike of pain reverberated through her head and starbursts exploding behind her tightly clenched eyelids. The report slipped through her numb fingers as she pressed her hands to her forehead, trying to breathe through the pain and regain control of her magic at the same time. But the harder she tried, the more the pounding in her head increased, and the more the pounding increased, the more control she lost.

She pressed a hand against her mouth as a sudden wave of nausea twisted her stomach and took slow, shallow breaths, attempting to still her roiling gut. She had to keep it under control, couldn't allow this spiking pain to cause her to let loose the chilly tickle of ice growing within her. It seemed pointless; already, she could hear the crackle of ice spreading around her feet, rushing to take over the room.

"Elsa?" A voice broke through the pounding in her skull, and a warm hand rested on her arm.

Elsa startled, jostling her mercilessly aching head.

"Elsa, you need to breathe."

 _Anna_.

She focused on her sister's voice and used the comfort of Anna's presence to ground herself. She reached out blindly until she gripped her sister's arm and squeezed tightly.

Anna pulled her closer, laying Elsa's head against her chest. "You've got this. Just breathe."

Following her sister's command, she fought to time her own breathing with Anna's steady inhales and exhales. Beneath Anna's calm veneer, Elsa could hear the younger woman's heart thudding rapidly. But if her sister could keep it together, then surely so could she.

Elsa focused on her breathing, until the tension drained from her rigid limbs and the ice spreading through the room retreated. Her head cleared, focus returning, though there was no change in the relentless pulse behind her eyes. Elsa was beginning to think she should have just listened to Anna and the doctor and stayed in bed. Not that she would ever admit such a thing out loud. And not that she actually could do such a thing if she wanted to – there was so much work to be done.

Swallowing, she worked her eyes open and found herself facing a very concerned, wide-eyed Anna. "I'm all right," she said, her voice hoarse and quiet. "Thank you," she added, with a quick squeeze of her sister's arm.

Anna nodded tightly and stepped back but kept a comforting hand on Elsa's shoulder. "Do you feel any better? I mean, besides . . ."

 _No,_ Elsa wanted to say. She was fairly certain a group of tiny ice harvesters had taken up residence inside her head and were attempting to crack her skull open from the inside. "I'm fine, Anna," was what she said instead, pressing icy fingertips to her forehead. "I'm sorry, I. . ." She ran out of steam before finishing the sentence, shoulders slumping.

"Why don't we get you to bed?" Anna's voice was soft, just loud enough that Elsa didn't need to strain to hear her.

Elsa started to shake her head but thought better of it. "Anna, I can't—"

"Just for an hour or two," Anna persisted. "I promise the kingdom won't fall apart in that time. If it does, I'll wake you up just so you can tell me 'I told you so.'"

Elsa bit her lip, internally warring between the need to prove herself as a capable Queen, the desire to fix her mistakes, and the crushing knowledge that in her current state she could barely help herself, let alone anyone else. "Okay," she said with a defeated sigh. "But only for a few hours."

* * *

**07 August 1843**

Anna sat next to Elsa's bed, watching her sister's chest rise and fall with each breath. Even in sleep, lines of pain wrinkled the corners of her eyes. Every few moments Elsa's breath would hitch, and she'd squeeze her eyes tight and shift in bed, leaving Anna feeling tense until her sister relaxed and fell back into a deep slumber.

After the incident in the study she had managed to convince her sister to lay down for a bit, though she didn't feel the least bit guilty when the nap morphed into a stretch of sleep that lasted the rest of the day and through the night. The next two days followed much of the same pattern. Elsa rose with the sun, with help from Gerda, and started working on missives and damage reports, meeting with her council and the dignitaries still residing in the castle as they waited for the last of the damaged ships to be repaired.

There seemed to be no end to the line of people who wanted a piece of the queen's time. Anna had spent the past two days running interference as much as she could, consolidating reports, intercepting visitors, and checking on repairs. Despite her best efforts, most of what needed to be done specifically required the queen's attention, not her younger sister who possessed only a passing knowledge of the things they wanted to know.

Elsa worked from sunup until late afternoon, when she no longer physically could, when the pain in her head reached a crescendo and she could no longer focus or fully control her magic. At that point, Anna would slink in and take advantage of her sister's slipping focus, and usher the stubborn Queen to bed for the rest of the day, waking her sometime in the evening to coax some food into her.

Despite the extra sleep Elsa was getting each night, her condition seemed to be worsening. Anna had escorted her sister back to her room after a meeting with a Lord that couldn't be rescheduled, and Elsa had leaned heavily on her as they made their way gingerly down the hall. Shortly after changing into a nightgown her nausea got the better of her, and Elsa spent the next twenty minutes emptying the meager contents of her stomach into a frozen bowl. By the time she finished, Elsa was panting heavily with hot tears streaming from her tightly clenched eyes. Before Anna could suggest moving to the bed, her sister went limp in her arms.

Anna's heart had seized as she feared the worst, and almost called for help from one of the guards posted in the residency wing.

Before she could, Elsa managed to work her eyes open and started shifting weakly as she attempted to find her feet. All of Anna's fear and panic was replaced with a rush of relief as she helped Elsa to bed and got her settled. She then called for the Royal Physician, who reiterated the importance of rest for the queen's condition. Due to Elsa's worsening symptoms he altered his previous recommendation to a week of strict bedrest. Even so, he admitted that it was only a recommendation and he could not dictate to the queen how she should or should not conduct herself in her role, even if she was risking her own health.

Anna now sat next to her sister's bed, waiting for Gerda to bring up dinner and a tea the physician prescribed to calm her nausea. The doctor couldn't force Elsa to stay in bed and as much as Anna wanted to, she wasn't sure she could either. Only a week had passed since the sisters had been reunited, and that wasn't much time to get to know each other, especially since Elsa had spent the bulk of those days either working or sleeping. She wanted to try reasoning with her older sister again, but Elsa was determined to fix the issues her storm had caused, regardless of the cost to her own health.

She recalled a conversation she'd once had with her mother when she was still quite young, and her father had taken ill. Her mother seemed strangely calm throughout the ordeal, and Anna asked her how she could be.

Iduna sat her young daughter down with a mug of hot cocoa and explained that both her father and sister had been born with their future decided: ruling a kingdom. Their entire lives had been built toward the moment of their coronation, and the reign that would follow. Because of that, they could be prone to some hardheadedness and something of an ego, believing themselves invincible. It was a monarch's duty to put the kingdom first, which didn't leave much room for vulnerability of the mind or the body.

"When your sister becomes Queen," she said, "it will be your responsibility to keep her grounded, to remind Elsa that she is human. She will make mistakes and she will fall ill, and that is okay."

Anna knew it was her job to help her sister understand that her health was important. Even the staff and members of the council could see something was wrong. There had to be something she could do, but she was afraid Elsa wouldn't stop until she hit her breaking point. Anna wasn't sure she could keep her sister from reaching that point, but she wouldn't give up trying. All the same, she had to be prepared to be there for Elsa when she hit that wall. Elsa had an entire kingdom to take care of; Anna would make sure there was someone to take care of her.


	7. Coup De Grâce

_**Tell me, father, which to ask forgiveness for: what I am, or what I am not?** _

_**Tell me, mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn't?** _

**-thoughts of a stray**

* * *

**10 August 1843**

Elsa curled her shaking hands into fists and pressed them firmly against her lap, out of sight. She gazed down the table at her advisors. One of them was in the middle of giving a report; repairs had concluded on the last of the damaged ships, and the remaining guests would be setting sail with the tide today. Keeping her regal composure, Elsa held back a sigh of relief at finally hearing some good news.

She greatly appreciated her sister's help and knew how hard Anna had been working over the last week to lighten her workload. But there was only so much she could do. Certain things required the queen's attention and approval in order to get done. Traditionally, when a coronation was held and so many visiting dignitaries were in the castle, the time would be ripe for creating new alliances, treaties, and trade agreements. But this hadn't been a traditional coronation, not with the impromptu winter plaguing Arendelle, and the myriad of issues left in its wake.

Despite her injury, Elsa continued to deal with things as best she could, prioritizing what could not wait and putting off what could. Things like trade negotiations or alliances; she couldn't bind Arendelle to such a treaty when, as much as she hated to admit to herself, she was unable to think clearly enough to ensure she was doing what was best for the kingdom.

There were members of the visiting royalty, representatives who were unhappy with her refusal to negotiate, but she had a valid excuse in needing to take stock of Arendelle's loses in the summer storm before she could promise anything, and was a difficult point for anyone to argue. There were also those who seemed relieved about her hesitance to strike new deals; she was sure they were itching to return home to report the news about Arendelle's magical queen and took note of which countries they belonged to.

As her advisors droned on, Elsa's headache continued to rage, increasing to an exquisite level of pain. She clenched her hands tighter, fighting the urge to press her cold fingers against her temples. It had been a busy day but was only noon. Anna had gone out surprisingly early this morning, saying something about meeting with the guards in town about damages to the city proper. At least, she thought that's what her sister had said; she'd woken with a pounding headache and Anna talked fast. She did slow down enough to ensure Elsa would be okay on her own for a few hours, repeating multiple times that she should be careful not to overdo things, and to take as many breaks as she needed.

Elsa had smiled tightly and nodded, assuring her sister that she would. And she really intended to, but the whole day seemed to be one thing after another – one of her Barons complaining about a marriage law, a foreign Lord insisting on renewing a trade contract, an unscheduled meeting with another, stern-faced Lord demanding answers about her powers. It took everything she had not to accidentally freeze something during that meeting, and it ended abruptly with the man being escorted out of the castle by her Guard Captain. The pain in her head had spiked horribly after he left the room, with a brutality that left her so nauseated that she sat in her study with her head cradled on her arms for several minutes unable to move.

Once her stomach settled and she was able to pull herself together, she took a steadying breath, and left her study, vowing that after the meeting with her council she would listen to what her sister said and lay down for a little while. She just had to make it through this one last thing. Governing the kingdom was her responsibility and there were some things that just couldn't be put off or done by someone else. Now, however, she was deeply regretting the fact she hadn't done so anyway.

"Your Majesty?"

A voice broke through the gauze in Elsa's aching head, and she blinked hard, realized everyone at the table had stopped talking and were instead staring at her with varying levels of concern.

"Are you well?"

She sat straighter and forced a smile. "Yes, I'm fine. Please, go on," she added, before realizing she couldn't remember who had been speaking, or what they had been talking about.

The Admiral cast a glance around the table. "Perhaps we should adjourn for the time being and reconvene in a few days."

Elsa wanted to say no, knowing he was only suggesting such a thing because if she appeared only _half_ as bad as she felt, then she probably looked awful. She relented with a tight nod and rose, vision strobing lazily as she did. Around the table, her advisors stood as well. A wayward elbow connected with one of the water glasses crowding the tabletop, knocking it to the floor with a crisp, loud crash.

The noise sent a blinding spike of pain through Elsa's head, sending a burst of magic across the floor. She pressed a trembling hand to her head, breathing erratically. She could hear voices, but couldn't move or think or even breath, momentarily paralyzed by the pain. She kept one hand at her head, the other reaching instinctively out for support. Her fingers landed on the wooden table and instantly froze it. The voices grew distant as a ringing tone sounded in her ears. The ring got louder and louder until everything just stopped.

* * *

Gerda sighed as she got to work tidying up the Queen's chambers. She was running behind schedule today; it was becoming increasingly difficult for the castle's small staff to handle the additional daily duties since opening the castle gates. She would have to speak with Kai about getting more hands onboard to help with the workload.

Thankfully, the Queen was quite a tidy person on her own, so the task of making up her room in the morning was a simple and quick one. Unlike her younger sister who more often than not left her own room looking as though a hurricane had blown through.

Gerda tucked in the last bit of rumpled blanket and straightened, stretching a sore muscle in her back. The door slammed open and she startled, turned to see Admiral Mikael Naismith rushing into the room with a limp Queen Elsa cradled in his arms.

Her heart jumped into her throat, but she tamped down the raising panic. Her place in the castle, with these sisters, had always been to provide order, and calm consistency. She could not give in to panic now, no matter how frightened she was by the sight of the unconscious queen. Without a word, she moved to the head of the bed and pulled back the sheets she had just tucked away.

Up close, Gerda could see that Elsa's face was shockingly pale and pinched tightly in pain, the young woman's breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps. "What happened?" she asked as she stepped back to make room for the Admiral to lay the Queen on her bed.

Mikael shook his head, lowering her with more gentleness than one would expect from a career military man. "She wasn't feeling well during the council meeting, then . . ." He shook his head, moving away from the bed. "I'm not sure what happened, she—" He stopped talking as Malthe hurried into the room, his bag in hand. The physician paused on the threshold and sighed deeply as he took in the sight of the unconscious woman.

As the two men had a hushed, serious discussion over what had happened in the council chambers, Gerda did what she could to make the young queen more comfortable, removing her shoes and bodice with practiced ease. It seemed as though they had all been prepared for this inevitable moment.

Since the disastrous events of the Queen's coronation, Elsa had been determined to prove that she was worthy of the legacy left behind by her father. Unfortunately, she seemed to believe that to do this, she had to work herself into and then through a state of exhaustion and physical breakdown. The rate at which she was working would be hard for anyone to maintain, but in the days following the return of summer it had quickly become clear that the Queen was playing wounded, and something was seriously wrong.

Despite Princess Anna's efforts to help ease her workload, Elsa's condition had been rapidly, noticeably deteriorating. Gerda had spent her entire life caring for and nursing these girls through various injuries and illness and had long ago learned the nuances and tells of the Queen's behavior. She knew more about Elsa than her own sister did, and she had feared for days that things were going to come to a head. This young Queen had never been one to do things by halves. Her drive to work and study through illness was something she developed at a young age, despite the displeasure of both her parents, something she had picked up from her father. It was a rare occasion that Elsa was sick, unlike her sister, who seemed to find a new virus to bring home to the castle on a weekly basis. But when she did fall ill, she often fought through it until it took her down, hard.

Gerda carefully removed the Queen's dress, leaving her in a simple silken shift. The garment was not as comfortable as a nightgown but was a better option than her day clothes and would do for now. She stepped back as the physician came over to the bed and attempted to wake her up. She noticed that Mikael had made his way out of the room and debated if she should make sure a runner was sent out to the Princess. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind that she realized Elsa was not responding to Malthe's insistent calls of her name. Panic once more threatened to surge in her chest. She possessed no wealth of medical knowledge but knew that being unable to wake someone with a head injury was a very bad sign.

Malthe reached into his bag and withdrew a small vial – smelling salts, Gerda recognized quickly. He broke the vial under the Queens nose, and it was a tense, painfully silent moment before Elsa drew in a deep breath, which caught in her throat and sent her into a coughing fit. Gerda watched as the lines on Elsa's face deepened, as one hand curled into a fist on the blanket and frost creeped across the fabric.

"Your Majesty," Malthe prodded in a hushed voice.

Elsa let loose a low hum, her breath hitching as she opened her eyes a fraction only to slam them closed immediately. A groan slipped through her lips as she pressed a trembling hand over her eyes.

Malthe frowned, then looked to the window, where afternoon sunlight was streaming in. "Draw the curtains closed," he said to Gerda.

Gerda nodded and moved quickly to do so, plunging the large room into near darkness. A soft light came from the low, flickering fire in the fireplace, and added more logs, bringing up both the temperature and light in the room.

At the physician's prompting, Elsa blinked open her eyes once more. "Malthe," she said softly, voice slurred with pain.

"Your Majesty," he returned with a tense smile. He opened his bag, pulling out items and placing them on the nightstand. "How are you feeling?"

"Mm." Her face scrunched in confusion, like she was having an issue coming up with words. "Awful. My head . . ." Her eyes slid shut once more.

"I can imagine." The doctor pulled up a seat next to the bed. "Ma'am, I'm going to ask you a few questions. It is okay if you don't know the answers. Don't stress yourself, just answer the best you can."

Elsa dragged her eyes open, looking up at the physician as though she had forgotten he was there. Even from across the room, Gerda could see the Queen was struggling just to stay awake. She made a soft hum that the doctor seemed to take as permission to continue.

The physician turned to Gerda. "Would you put some water on the fire?"

"Of course." As the water heated, she stood by, ready to help in any way she could. Malthe asked the Queen a series of simple questions. Gerda was relieved to see that Elsa was able to answer each question, though there was a concerning delay between each answer that seemed to grow longer as her discomfort visibly increased. The temperature of the room also noticeably dropped as frost continued to crawl across the blanket and started to grow in the dim corners of the room. It was a sure sign that the Queen was struggling with her magic and slowly losing control of her powers.

"You're doing great, ma'am," the doctor assured Elsa in a gentle tone. "Just one last thing, and then you can rest. Now, this maybe be uncomfortable, but I need to shine a light in your eyes. I promise to be brief."

Steam rose from the kettle of hit water behind her, Gerda pulled it off the fire before it had a chance to whistle, knowing such a sharp burst of sound would cause the poor girl more pain. She set the water to the side as the doctor leaned forward. His back blocked her view of Elsa's face, but the effect of the light to her eyes was immediate.

Elsa inhaled sharply; frost exploded across the thick blanket. Gerda suppressed a shiver as she watched the young woman pull her knees up and press her hands to her eyes, as she heard an uncharacteristic whimper from the usually composed Queen. Her heart ached from the sound and she found herself moving closer to the bed only to stop short. Her instinct was to provide comfort to the wounded girl, but she didn't want to interfere with the physician's exam.

One of Elsa's hands slid from covering her eyes to her mouth, the other pressing weakly against the bed. From years of experience, both Malthe and Gerda knew what was about to happen. The doctor snapped into action, grabbing a metal bowl while Gerda moved to Elsa's head and helped her to sit up. Just as the doctor slid the bowl in front of her, she began to heave, wrapping her hands around the edge of the bowl until her knuckles turned white. It was clear from the start she didn't have much to bring up, and it felt like an eternity watching the young woman dry-heave over the now-icy bowl.

Gerda kept one hand on Elsa's shoulder to hold back her long braid, rubbing her back in wide, soothing circles with the other. By the time the Queen's stomach settled, she was panting for air, her whole body shaking while hot tears cut tracks down her cheeks.

Gerda started to help the Queen lay back but Malthe stopped her. "Just one moment," he said. The doctor filled a cup with hot water and poured more across a washcloth, which he handed to Gerda.

She obliged, using the cloth to wipe sweat from the side and back of the Queen's neck while mummering words of reassurance. Elsa didn't respond to any of it, her breath still coming in sharp pants as she curled over her tented knees.

The doctor finished steeping whatever he had in the teacup and after several failed attempts, managed to encourage Elsa to drink the hot tea in small, slow sips. After she'd had all she could handle, he set the cup aside and nodded to Gerda, who took the motion as her cue to help the Queen lay back. Elsa immediately curled up on her side, burying her face between the pillow and large comforter.

It took only moments before Gerda could see the change in the woman's breathing, and the lines of pain in her expression smoothed in sleep. The Queen looked more relaxed, and far younger, than Gerda had seen her in a long time. "What did you give her?" she asked Malthe.

"A sedative mixed with a potent painkiller," the doctor replied, replacing the items he'd taken from his bag. "It should allow her to sleep for the rest of the day and into the morning."

Gerda nodded, idly noting that the room had grown warmer, and that the frost covering the blanket had receded.

"I sent a runner to fetch the Princess. She should be here shortly, and I'll discuss it with her but . . ." Malthe rubbed a hand across his chin. "Considering the severity of the Queen's injury and the strength of the medication I've just given her, I feel it would be prudent someone stay with Her Majesty until she wakes, just as a precaution."

Gerda nodded. "I'll stay with her. Won't be the first time I kept watch." She offered the physician a fragile smile. The air went out of her as she sank into the chair next to Elsa's bed, watching the girl that was so much like a daughter to her sleep. Her heart went out to the young girl and the burden that lay on her shoulders, and she wished there was more she could do to help.

* * *

Anna breathed deeply, filling her lungs with crisp ocean air as she walked along the cobblestone streets. It was only early afternoon, but she was already worn out. The last few days had passed in a blur as she ran around the castle and kingdom taking on any task that she could. She was trying to lighten her sister's workload before the queen got a chance to work herself into an early grave, something that Elsa seemed determined to do. Anna didn't mind; she quite enjoyed having an opportunity to help her sister, as well as the chance to be out among the citizens of Arendelle and get to know them in a way she was never able when the gates were closed. Though, the gates had ever stopped her from trying, much to her parent's irritation.

For the first time since summer returned, she was able to spend some time with Kristoff. His ice harvesting and Anna's self-appointed duties at the castle had left little time for them talk lately. She had been on her way out of the castle that morning when she ran into Kristoff, Sven, and Olaf in the courtyard. Olaf had, to Anna's amusement, been asking a flustered looking Kristoff about a million questions per second, leaving the man no opportunity to answer.

Anna laughed at the overenthusiastic little snowman and then decided to help poor Kristoff out. She gave Olaf what she hoped was an innocent and easy enough task in the castle, and the snowman immediately, excitedly ran off to do it. Watching him scamper off, she had a moment's pause, wondering if she was going to regret putting Olaf in charge of even a simple job, but decided she would deal with the fallout later if need be.

She asked a relieved Kristoff if he would be willing to help her out in town for a few hours. While not nearly as excitable as the little snowman, he seemed happy to help. Or just happy for the invitation along. They chatted easily as talked they walked through the town, getting to know each other more bit by bit. Anna wasn't yet sure how she truly felt about him, but was excited to explore the relationship - of course, at a much slower pace than her last one. Just the thought of Hans sent a chill slithering down her spine.

She turned to her right and smiled, bumped Kristoff with her shoulder. "Thank you for coming today."

He returned the smile and shrugged. "Well, you know, it isn't every day you get to escort the Crown Princess around town."

Even with the help, and the company, the morning had been a bit more trying than most. Particularly the stop at the dressmaker's shop. The matron of the shop, Maggie, had been one of the few people to make regular visits to the castle while the gates were closed, to take measurements for new clothing as the sisters grew. It was something Anna looked forward to, a visitor from the outside world, and she'd always enjoyed the dressmaker's company. Maggie was an older, slightly plump woman with a motherly smile that could instantly put anyone at ease. Anna wasn't sure how much interaction Elsa had with the woman through the years, but assumed it was at least as much as she herself did, even if only in brief meetings in order to get new clothes made as she outgrew her old ones.

Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck nervously, as though unsure whether he should say what he was thinking. "I know your sister isn't much of a—people person, and I don't blame her for that, considering everything. But I'm surprised that she sent you to talk to Maggie rather than doing it herself. You know, since . . ."

Maggie's mother, Asia, had taken ill a few weeks earlier. The doctor had told Maggie that it was unlikely the old woman would recover, and the best they could do was make her comfortable in the time she had left. He'd told them that with the right care, Asia should live long enough to see the first of the new month, but it was doubtful she'd make it much longer than that.

Then the coronation took place, and with it, the Queen's Winter, and the sudden, blistering cold that fell over Arendelle. The old woman passed away the day after summer returned to the kingdom, from complications brought on during the punishing storm. Anna had heard of her passing a few days ago while intercepting damage reports and condensing the information before it reached her sister. She _may_ have left that detail out of the report when she finally gave it to Elsa.

Anna wrapped her arms around herself and coughed uncomfortably. "There's a small, tiny chance that, uh, Elsa may not know . . . about that."

Kristoff stopped in his tracks and turned toward Anna with wide eyes. "What do you mean she doesn't know?"

Anna dug the toe of her shoe into a wide crack in the cobblestone, feeling like a caught kid. "I may have left it out while summarizing Elsa's reports." She looked up, hoping Kristoff would give her some sign of assurance, that she'd done the right thing, with her sister's wellbeing in mind. When he only lifted an eyebrow, she sighed, shoulders slumping. "I'm worried about her, okay? She's already been working too hard, and if she finds out about . . . this, I'm not sure Elsa could handle it right now."

"She's the Queen," Kristoff replied, looking confused. "Isn't that her job, to handle these kinds of things? Especially when her own actions caused it?"

Anna frowned tightly. "She didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"But it did."

"It's my fault as much as it is hers," Anna said defiantly, taking a step back. "I'm the one who pushed her at the coronation, and then again on the North Mountain."

Kristoff released a heavy breath. "Look, I know you want to protect your sister. But she _is_ the Queen, and she's going to find out about this eventually. I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

"What are you talking about? Elsa would never hurt me."

Kristoff folded his arms over his chest. "Funny, that's what you said last time, too. Right before she froze your heart."

Anna lifted her chin, gaze narrowed. "That was an accident."

"And the time before that?" he persisted. "What happens if she has another _accident_?"

She recoiled, holding up her hands. "What do you mean the time before that? That only happened once."

Kristoff tilted his head, giving her an odd look. "No," he said slowly. "It happened twice. You remember how I said I knew the trolls could help you because I'd seen them do it before? I didn't realize it at the time, but it was you who I saw them help." His expression softened, and he dropped his arms to his sides. "Your parents brought you and your sister to the rock trolls after she struck you in the head with her powers when you were kids."

"What?" Feeling a bit light-headed, Anna shook her head. "No, I - I didn't even know Elsa _had_ powers growing up. If something like that happened, I would remember." Even as she said it, she knew Kristoff had no reason to lie about such a thing, not if he cared about her the way she thought he did.

"Grand Pabbie, altered your memories," he said softly. "I thought you knew that?"

Anna shook her head. "No, I didn't." Her voice was almost a whisper. Another secret, of course. Another huge, important thing that had been kept from her. She bit down her lower lip, resisting the urge to cry out in frustration. It seemed there were always more secrets, more things she didn't know.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Anna felt like a hypocrite. Here she was getting mad about things being kept from her, while she was doing the exact same thing to Elsa. But this was different right? It wasn't that Anna was _never_ planning on never telling her – she was just waiting for the right time. She didn't like withholding such a thing from her sister, but she was resolved to wait until Elsa was feeling better, until her head was no longer causing issues on a daily basis. Then, she would tell Elsa what happened. Maybe after a nice, hot bath, and some hot chocolate, and whatever else she might need to be relaxed and ready to handle the news. Because even though the old woman had been nearing the end of her life, and even though she had been terminally ill with no chance of recovery, Elsa would blame herself for Aisa's death. In Elsa's eyes, it was entirely her fault. Anna didn't want to place that sort of burden on her sister's already weighted shoulders until she absolutely had to.

Anna suddenly found herself anxious to get back to the castle. She'd been away a few hours longer than she had planned, and despite what Elsa had promised, she knew her sister hadn't taken any breaks in between working. Elsa's headaches were getting worse by the day, forcing her to stop working earlier and earlier, and Anna was worried about her sister hitting her breaking point. Worse, what sort of damage Elsa might do to herself before reaching it.

The couple walked a long way in silence before Kristoff spoke up. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Anna turned to him but was immediately distracted by the sight of one of the castle staff, a younger boy that just been hired the previous day, running down the street from the direction of the castle. The boy looked to be in a hurry, and he was coming right for them. Anna's heart dropped into her stomach.

The boy reached them, breathing heavily, but still took the time to offer Anna a low bow. "Your Highness," he said breathlessly, "the Queen—"

If he said any more, Anna didn't hear it. Her chest tightened and she took off toward the castle, gathering her skirts in her hand so she wouldn't trip over them. Time seemed to somehow simultaneously speed up and slow down as she made her way up the spiral staircase that led to the residency wing. Footsteps thundered behind her, and despite their small spat out on the street, she felt a sliver of comfort that Kristoff was still with her.

She came to an abrupt stop at her sister's closed door, reaching for the handle just as the door opened. She jumped back, startled, as she saw who was exiting the room. "Malthe."

The physician seemed just as surprised to see her standing there. He smiled tightly as he pulled the door closed behind him, not wanting to disturb the occupant within.

Kristoff stood awkwardly behind Anna, providing silent comfort. Malthe looked worn and haggard, and his appearance only served to increase Anna's anxiety. "What - "

The doctor raised his hand. "I've given Her Majesty a sedative. She should sleep until at least tomorrow morning."

Anna nodded, but she hardly even understood the man through the blood rushing in her ears. "What happened?"

* * *

**11 August 1843**

Anna rubbed roughly at her tired eyes. She had managed a few hours of restless sleep but found herself wandering back to her sister's room in the early morning hours relieving Gerda from her watch. The royal physician had been detailed in his explanation of "what happened" to Elsa while Anna was in town with Kristoff. The most concerning part was the difficulty they had in waking her. Thankfully, Malthe had been able to wake her, though he regretfully informed Anna that once conscious, the Queen's discomfort quickly reached a point where she was hardly able to answer any of his questions. Once he assured himself it was safe to do so, he had given her a sedative and painkiller to help her rest more comfortably but warned her due to the severity of the concussion and strength of the medication that someone would have to stay with her till she woke.

None of the information had done anything to ease Anna's concern. Quite the opposite; the longer the doctor talked, the more her worry grew. The physician told her that the Queen would have to take a week of strict bedrest. All he could do, once again, was offer his recommendation, but was painfully clear to Anna that it had to happen, and it was up to her to somehow make her sister understand that she _had_ to rest. Head injuries could deteriorate at the drop of a hat and if the symptoms of this one progressed much further; Elsa could be looking at irreversible complications.

_Irreversible complications._

Those two words scared Anna more than anything else the physician had said. After he left, she paced outside her sister's door as various emotions fought for dominance within her. She was worried about Elsa, and scared for her, and feeling guilty that she hadn't done more to lighten her sister's workload, and livid that she was being so careless with her own health.

Kristoff had stayed with her for a few hours, providing silent reassurance that she wasn't alone. While he obviously wasn't sure of his own feelings about the snow queen, he would do whatever he could to help Anna. She was incredibly thankful to have him around, more than he would had been more thankful for the Ice Harvester then he would ever know.

After a tense, silent hour spent at Elsa's bedside, Kristoff managed to convince Anna to eat a bit of bread and cheese brought to the room by Gerda. Her rumbling belly agreed, and she picked a bit at the food, then wolfed it down, surprised by how hungry she turned out to be. Likely encouraged by that small success, Kristoff proceeded to push Anna to go on and get some sleep in her own room. She was reluctant to leave her sister's side, but Gerda had promised to watch over her sister and Malthe had assured her that the sedative would help Elsa sleep through the night, and Kristoff was right: she would be no good to her sister if she wore herself ragged as well.

So, Anna made her way to her own room down the hall, where she tossed and turned for hours before finally slipping into a restless sleep. A little before dawn, she found herself wide awake and unable to fall back asleep. She grabbed her blanket and made her way back to her sister's room, relieved the older woman from her vigil and curling up in one of the larger plush chairs she'd pulled close to Elsa's bed. For the second time in less than a week, she found watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her sister's chest. This time, Elsa seemed to be sleeping more peacefully, her breathing deep and unhindered, the sedative Malthe had given her smoothing out the lines of pain that had crinkled her eyes.

Anna dozed in the chair. She wasn't sure how long she'd managed to sleep when a soft groan pulled her from her slumber.

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly, in gauzy stages of semi-awareness. She sensed a presence in the room, a familiar weight at her side, a warm hand on her own cool arm. She remained in that in-between stage for as long as possible, head feeling heavy and detached, but strangely, blessedly pain-free. She was wary of moving, or even opening her eyes, and inviting the pain back. A soft groan filtered through the gauze and it took more time than it should to realize the sound had come from herself.

"Elsa?"

That one word caused a distant, disconnected flash of pain to flare in her head. She didn't want pain. She was tired of pain. She pulled away from the voice, drifted back toward the cool, simple gray of unconsciousness, where there was no pain, and no one expected anything of her. Then she felt warm hands on her face, gentle fingers brushing her bangs from her forehead.

"Hey, come on. You can do it."

Anna's voice, and Elsa knew that she had to. A thousand years from now, and she'd still never be able to say "no" to her little sister.

She struggled to pry open eyelids that felt like they weighed a hundred pounds, but when she did, she was greeted with a blurry image of her sister's watery smile.

"Hey. There you are." Anna continued to run her fingers lightly over Elsa's hair, and the mattress dipped as her sister settled next to her. "How are you feeling?"

Elsa wrinkled her nose as she took stock of herself. She felt weird and weightless. The throbbing in her head was still there, but distant, like there was a wall of cotton keeping it at bay. She was okay with that. She licked dry lips, struggling to form a response. "Fuzzy?" she finally offered. She shifted on the bed, rolled to her back and attempted to draw herself upright. The world tilted sluggishly with her movements, and she blinked harshly to clear her vision.

Anna leaned forward and adjusted the pillows behind Elsa so she could sit up against them, concern wrinkling the corners of her eyes as she sat back. "Do you remember what happened?"

Elsa pressed a cool hand to her forehead and worked to collect her thoughts, finding gaping holes in her memory. She searched her mind for the last clear thing she could remember. "I was in a meeting with the council?" Unsure, she looked to her sister for confirmation.

Anna nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"I wasn't feeling well, and we cut the meeting short." She frowned, pressing her fingertips against her eyelids as she fought through that layer of cotton that was making it hard to think. "Someone . . . broke a glass?" That didn't seem right, but she very clearly remembered the sharp, crisp sound of glass shattering against a hard wood floor. "Then . . ." Elsa shook her head, anxiety pulling at the fogginess in her mind as she realized she couldn't remember anything after that.

"You collapsed," Anna said, shaking her head. "Malthe said they had a hard time trying to wake you and when they finally did, you were pretty out of it."

Elsa exhaled slowly. "I don't remember."

"He had to give you a sedative and painkiller so you could rest."

Well, that explained why her head felt fuzzy and odd, her thoughts slippery. Elsa nodded carefully, unsure what else to say.

Anna sighed. "Well, I hope you're satisfied."

Elsa's head was starting to spin. What her sister was saying didn't make any sense; she had obviously missed something. "What?"

"I mean, are you happy? Now that you've worked yourself to the point that you've actually made your condition worse. A few days of rest is all the doctor asked for, and you could barely even manage _one_." Anna rose from her seat with a huff and began to pace next to the bed.

Elsa struggled to keep her gaze on her sister, but the motion was causing her stomach to turn. She slammed her eyes shut as Anna's rising voice began to drag that distant pain through the cotton veil, resulting in a sharp stab in her temple.

"You wouldn't listen to the doctor," Anna continued, as though she was talking to herself. "And you wouldn't listen to me. Maybe you'll listen to yourself, now that your own body is trying to tell you to slow down and rest. Actually, no, I hope you - "

"Anna," Elsa finally forced out through gritted teeth, as pain strobed behind her eyeballs. "You don't understand. As Queen - "

"I'm not talking to my Queen!" Anna exploded. She whirled on Elsa, shoulders heaving, and for the first time, Elsa could focus enough to see the tears in the girl's eyes. "I'm talking to my sister."

Elsa's face flushed from her sister's declaration, but her own anger was building beneath the surface. "I am the Queen," she returned as forcefully as she could manage. "I am Queen of Arendelle and responsible for the lives of more than fifty thousand people." She stared at her sister, giving that a moment to sink in. "Fifty thousand people, Anna, who are looking to me for guidance. Who are watching me and judging my every move. A monarch rules at the will of their people, and if they decide that I can't, or that they can't trust a queen who spent thirteen years hiding her magical powers—" Elsa sucked in a breath as pressure rose in her chest, but she wasn't strong enough to hold back the tumble of words spilling out, from the stress and frustration of the last week, and the fears of the last thirteen years. "Do you have any idea—and even if my people accept me, I still have multiple kingdoms out there ill at ease with the thought of my powers." She curled her fingers around the comforter as the pain in her head spiked. The injury, combined with whatever medication was still in her system, was causing her mind to feel muddled, but she was determined to not let it knock her down once again. "One wrong step, one slip, and I might doom Arendelle to war just because of my existence. So, I'm sorry I didn't retreat to my room for a few days to rest, because I was busy trying to keep other countries from starting a war and fixing the problems _my_ winter storm caused."

"Then let me help!" Anna exclaimed, throwing her arms out wide. "Stop trying to do everything by yourself."

"No," Elsa said firmly, automatically, not even considering the thought. "I can't do that."

A look of hurt crossed Anna's face. "What? Why not. I know I don't have the same training as you – nowhere near it – but I can help. I can take over your duties for a few days."

"You tried to marry a man you just met; how can I trust your judgement in doing what's best for Arendelle?" The words fell from Elsa's lips before she could stop them. She hadn't meant to say it, but the growing pain and effects of the medication had blown a hole through her usual self-control.

Anna jerked her head back as though she'd been slapped, but her wounded expression gave way quickly to anger. "First of all, ow. Second, so says the woman who thought running away to the North Mountain to live the rest of her days as a hermit was a good idea."

"I was scared," Elsa bit out, though she hated to admit it. "I had just spent the last thirteen years being taught to fear my powers and what may happen if people found out about them. If _someone_ had practiced better judgement and listened for once in their lives when I told you enough, this would have never happened."

"Well if _someone_ would have just told me what was going on instead of hiding, that would have never happened."

"I was trying to protect you."

"Well, a fine job you did there."

This time it was Elsa who recoiled, feeling the verbal slap as her mind immediately returned to that day in the fjord, looking up and seeing her baby sister frozen solid, like a statue. The air went out of her, along with any argument she had been preparing to launch. Suddenly, she felt far more exhausted than she had the night she brought summer back. She had no idea how to respond to her sister, or if she even had a right to.

Anna was right; she had messed everything up. She had tried so hard to protect her sister and, in the end, it didn't even matter. Because she had not only frozen the kingdom, but Anna's heart.

Hot tears prickled against her eyes. "All I ever wanted was to protect you." Elsa dropped her gaze to her lap, where her hands were curled into fists. "But I failed, again."

Anna dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, wiping away her own tears, and flopped onto the mattress next to Elsa. She wrapped her fingers around Elsa's icy ones. "I'm all right, and the kingdom is all right. Elsa, you didn't fail. We just . . . " She shrugged a shoulder. " We just hit a few bumps in the road."

"Bumps? More like mountains."

"We still scaled them," Anna continued, in a small, hiccup-y voice. "And as long as we do it together, we'll make it through."

Elsa pressed her lips into a thin smile, rubbing her thumb over the back of Anna's hand. "When did you get so smart?"

"I had a good teacher."

"Mother?"

Anna chuckled. "No silly, you." She reached out and pushed a stray piece of platinum hair from Elsa's forehead. "Elsa," she said, her tone more serious. "Malthe said you need strict bed rest for at least a week." She held up a hand as Elsa opened her mouth to protest. "And I know you won't really be resting if you're lying here for a week not knowing what's going on. And . . . and I know you're more than a little reluctant to allow me to step in for you. To be honest, your job isn't actually something I think I could manage doing, and the thought of trying terrifies me. But I was thinking about it all night, and I think I might have a plan."

Elsa chewed on her bottom lip, hesitant to agree to anything that involved staying in bed for an entire week, but also understanding that she could no longer physically or mentally continue at the pace she'd been keeping for the last week. Even the brief argument she'd just had with her sister was enough to cause nauseating spikes of pain to lance her skull, and she was simply lying in bed.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm listening."


	8. Somewhere in Between

**_Having a need and needing help is not a sign that you’re weak, it’s a sign that you’re human._ **

**-Kate Northrup**

* * *

**15 August 1843**

Anna took a large bite of her dinner, her shoulder brushing Elsa’s as they sat side by side in companionable silence on the bed. Despite the massive amount of work that she had taken on in her sister’s stead, the last four days had passed with surprising ease, and she was feeling lighter than she had in a long time. Elsa had, less surprisingly, been reluctant to go along at first, but when Anna had told her the choice was her plan or a weeklong medical coma, the choice became a lot easier. 

Elsa agreed to adhere to the doctor’s recommendation for strict bedrest with a check-up at the end of the week, and Anna would take over the Queen’s duties. Before long, they fell into a rhythm. Anna attended meetings in the morning and wrote up reports and notes from each, and then at noon she had lunch with Elsa in her room, where she gave her sister a full rundown of the pertinent information and reviewed what was scheduled for the rest of the day. Elsa instructed Anna on what she needed to do, how to respond to specific requests, and what could be put off until she could handle it in person herself. In the evening, Anna took dinner in her sister’s room and they repeated the routine, while also going over the next morning’s schedule. While Anna stuffed her face, Elsa used the time to sign any documents that urgently required the Queen’s approval. 

There were times Anna felt completely out of her depth, and moments of stress that made her want to tell Elsa she’d been wrong about being able to handle such responsibility, but it truly seemed to be the best solution to the current problem. She got what she needed – her injured sister resting in bed like she should have been from the start – and Elsa was able to still manage the kingdom by proxy. Even better, she felt like she was doing what was expected of her, without putting her own health at risk. 

For Anna, the best part of the arrangement was that each evening, after they’d gone over the necessary work, they were free to just _talk_ and finally, after so many years of separation, were getting to know each other. The conversations were light but filled with things she felt were important for sisters to know about each other. They shared their favorite color and food, and what kinds of hobbies they enjoyed. That more than made up for the stress of the day. 

It was during these easy chats that Anna was quickly finding out that there was a lot she could learn about her sister without listening to what she was saying. Elsa was a master of masking her emotions, like a beautiful ironclad lockbox full of tantalizing, untold secrets. But if she really paid attention and knew where to look, there were subtle tells that offered hints at what her sister was feeling, tells that Anna wasn’t sure Elsa even knew about herself. Through these careful observations, Anna had been able to determine the best time to try to discuss more serious, possibly touchy topics and, possibly more importantly, when to avoid them. 

This was one aspect where she found that the opposite of what she’d expected was true. Anna had assumed that if someone was going to broach a touchy subject with Elsa, it would be best to do so when the Queen was in a good mood and full of companionable, contented energy, but it turned out that was when her defensive walls were at their strongest. Obviously, she knew not to bring up such topics when her sister was in a bad mood; Anna was an eternal optimist, but even she realized how bad an idea that would be. What she had discovered were in-between moods that Elsa had a habit of falling into, where she wasn’t quite upset, but also wasn’t exactly happy. It was like a neutral emotional territory in which she was more contemplative and far quieter than normal, but it was during these times that Elsa’s guard was down and her walls – while never weak – were at their thinnest. 

Anna felt a pang of guilt over figuring out her sister’s mood, like she discovered a secret she wasn’t supposed to know, and then again about taking advantage of what she’d learned, but she swore to herself to never pushed Elsa further than she was willing to go. Besides, it was the safest and calmest time to talk to the normally stressed Queen about anything that might otherwise be a difficult subject. Perhaps the most helpful tell Anna had discovered had to do with her sister’s appetite. Elsa has never been one to overindulge, except the occasional extra piece of chocolate, but when she spent more time pushing her food around on her plate then eating it, Anna knew her sister was in one of those contemplative in-between moods. 

She watched now as Elsa did just that with her barely touched food. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, small bits and pieces of information gleaned over the last two weeks that she needed expanded on and explained, and she wasn’t sure which she wanted answers to the most. Her gaze drifted down to her sister's hands, where the hems of her long sleeves had scrunched up enough to offer a clear view of her wrists, still obviously bruised. The marks had faded from the vivid purple and red swelling, and the rings around Elsa’s fingers were gone entirely, but the sight still caused Anna to wince. She remembered how her sister had mentioned _specially made shackles,_ and all of a sudden, any other question she wanted to ask could wait. 

“Elsa?” she asked hesitantly, wanting to be sure she had gauged her sister’s mood correctly before jumping right in. 

“Hmm?” The response was distracted, Elsa only paying the minimum amount of attention required as she continued to drag the tines of her fork through her dinner. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Mmm.” 

Anna took the noncommittal noise as permission to continue. She moved her food tray aside to the nightstand and chewed her lip, debating how she wanted to broach the subject. “The marks on your hands and wrists . . . you said they came from specially made shackles in the dungeon.” She took a breath then blurted, “who were they specially made for? And how did you, the Queen, end up in the dungeon?” 

Elsa’s gaze snapped up and she went still, like a deer caught in the crosshairs of a bow. She looked down at her bruised wrists, dinner forgotten entirely as she tugged the hems of her sleeves over the marks. Like Anna had seen her do many times over the past two weeks, Elsa wrapped her arms around her middle, like she was trying to protect herself. 

Anna bit down harder on her lower lip, afraid that she may have misjudged her sister’s mood. She stayed silent, giving Elsa the time to decide how she wanted to answer, if she even wanted to answer at all. 

A long moment of tense, uncomfortable silence fell over the room, and then Elsa began to talk. Haltingly at first, but as she delved deeper into the story, the words seem to flow easier. She told Anna about what happened on the North Mountain after her snow monster, Marshmallow, ejected her and Kristoff from the ice castle. She told Anna about how Hans, the Weselton guards, and even some Arendelle guards came up the mountain. She briefly spoke of Weselton’s attempt to kill her, though Anna could tell there was more to that story. She accepted that perhaps it was a conversation for another time and understood now why they were no longer trading with the small duchy. She’d been confused over the letter she received from the Duke, begging her to talk some sense into her sister, but never got the chance to ask Elsa what had happened between them. 

Elsa shoved away the barely touched tray of food, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing abruptly. With her arms folded around her middle, she walked to the window. The room quiet was but for the rainstorm kicking up outside and the fire crackling in the hearth. Elsa’s gaze took on a faraway look, as though she were watching her own story unfold, and she took a deep breath. Then she started talking again. 

She told Anna how Hans had redirected the crossbow arrow meant to kill her only to aim it at the icy chandelier overhead. The chandelier had crashed to the ground, striking Elsa and causing the concussion that she was still suffering from. Her tale ended with her waking up with a headache, shackled in the castle’s dungeon. 

Now that she knew Elsa had been knocked unconscious and brought back to the castle against her will, Anna had to wonder if her sister would have come down on her own, she had been adamant about not returning to Arendelle. If Hans hadn’t gone after her, if any of them had made one different choice, where would they be now? Would she be dead, betrayed and frozen, with Arendelle caught in an eternal winter? 

A chill went through her. Anna didn’t like the idea of feeling grateful for Hans’ actions, but had to admit that things could have very easily played out a different way. She sat still for a moment, absorbing everything she’d been told before thinking back on her original question, and the bruises on her sister’s hands. Bruises that didn’t look to have come from any sort of restraints she could think of. “And the shackles?” 

Elsa’s gaze dropped once more to her hands, and she shifted the hem of her sleeve, tracing the fading mark with a fingertip. “They were shaped like cylinders, so that they covered my hand. There was a locking ring around my wrist, and a smaller one for each finger. Strongly constructed and meant to securely hold one’s entire hand immobile.” 

Anna felt ice fill her stomach. “Elsa, who were the shackles originally made for?” 

Her sister tucked her hands away out of sight, fixing her gaze on the floor. “Me.” 

“What?” There was no way her sister had just said what Anna heard. 

“The shackles and the . . . room, they were made for me,” Elsa said in a quiet voice. “In the event I lost control of my powers.” 

Anna pressed her fingertips to her forehead, feeling sick and full of anger towards their parents. “How could Mama or Papa ever . . .” She couldn’t even finish the thought, let alone the sentence. 

“They didn't. It was after.” 

Anna dropped her hand and gaped at her sister. “What do you mean?” 

Elsa shook her head. “I’m the one who had them made, shortly after they were . . . after _I_ declared them lost at sea.” Her breath hitched, and she took a moment to get it under control. “Only two people knew what that room was meant for. Captain Jogeir and Admiral Naismith. I don't know how Hans found out about it, but I am sure it wasn’t from them.” 

Anna knew that her older sister had been through some things after she and Kristoff left the North Mountain, but she had no idea...and what was even harder was to hear that Elsa had seen herself, and thought of herself, as a threat to others long before she brought about the winter. She sat on the bed, limbs and heart feeling wooden, heavy. By the time she raised her gaze to where Elsa stood at the window, her sister was swaying faintly. 

Anna rose quickly and crossed the room, reached out to take her sister's hand. "Come sit down," she said softly, somewhere between a command and a request. Whether it was the lingering effects of the concussion or exhaustion from everything she had just unloaded, Elsa went willingly. 

As they settled back onto the bed, propped side by side against a sizeable stack of pillows, it occurred to Anna just how much her sister had been through without her realizing. Elsa had been the one who had to make that awful decision, who had been the one to finally acknowledge that their parents, the King and Queen of Arendelle, were gone and never coming back. Anna had been so wrapped up in her own grief, she hadn't taken the time to think how it had been for Elsa. She'd just wanted her sister to comfort her. 

Now, she was in a position to comfort Elsa. Anna wordlessly wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders and pulled her in closer. Elsa flinched reflexively, but Anna wasn't insulted. They were still learning, and it was mere seconds before her sister sagged against her. 


	9. Wyrd

_**All my life, my heart has sought a thing I cannot name.** _

* * *

**18 August 1843**

Elsa stood in the cove of a dark pebbled beach; her arms wrapped around herself as a chilly, salty ocean spray whipped her hair. She'd been here many times before, this place that only existed in her dreams. She felt more connected to her magic, more _whole_ , whenever she stood on this beach, and looked over this vast, rolling ocean. Sometimes the water was calm, a soft, lazy roll of tides moving to and fro. Other times thick clouds covered the sky and the ocean frothed and churned, like the moment after a storm had passed through and things were beginning to calm. When she found herself here, it usually coincided with how she'd been feeling as she drifted off, or what had happened that day. When she was feeling her lowest, or most at odds with her magic, she ended up dreaming of this place.

It always felt different somehow, standing out from any dream she'd had in the past. It felt . . . real.

The seas were calm, the waves drifting gentle. Elsa tipped her head back and pulled in a deep breath of fresh ocean air, enjoying the sense of absolute freedom that washed over her. She looked out at the ocean, feeling a pull from somewhere beyond the horizon. Every time she was here, she felt it. Sometimes a faint, delicate beckoning, sometimes a fierce, vexing tug. More than once she had succumbed to the pull and waded out into the water, but each time the tides turned on her and sent her stumbling back to the beach.

Looking out at the faint ribbon of the horizon, Elsa felt a far stronger pull than ever before. It was almost overwhelming. She chewed her bottom lip, toes digging into the rocky sand. She had never tried using her magic to get past the waves, had never trusted herself, even in her dreams, not to lose control. She was too concerned that loss of control would carry over upon waking and manifest in the real world. But now, with the horizon calling out to her, Elsa felt the magic within her responding, and knew she had to try.

She rolled her shoulders and stepped away from the shoreline before abruptly turning back and sprinting for the water. She willed her magic to flow to her feet as she hit the water, and a thrill ran through her as the water froze beneath each step, allowing her to run across the tide. In her excitement, Elsa's concentration wavered and herself plunge beneath the ocean's surface. Before she'd caught her breath, the waves threw her back to the pebbled shoreline.

Sputtering saltwater, Elsa pushed herself to her feet. Determined to make it this time, she ran once more at the water, face screwed tight in concentration as she sprinted across the ripples. She made it a bit farther before the tides rose and crashed over her, burying her in a dark swirl of water and carrying her back to the shore. She refused to give up, darting toward the water over and over. Each time she made it a bit farther out, and each time the waves grew taller than she could manage, sending her crashing through the surface before the currents pushed her back to the shore.

Elsa shifted sopping bangs from her face as she sat on the beach and surveyed the sea. She was surprised she hadn't yet woken; in past dreams she'd never had more than a few tries to cross the water before abruptly waking. She shoved to her feet and pushed her sleeves up, digging her bare feet in against the pebbles as she prepared for another run. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the pull she felt deep within her chest, beckoning her nearer, calling to her like a hazy, warm memory. She pushed off and ran to the sea, jumping onto the waves, ice forming easily underfoot. As the waves built up in front of her, threatening to knock her down, Elsa sent a blast of ice downward, trying to cut a path through it. The blast wasn't strong enough, and the ice splintered against the force of the raging water. She fell to the ocean's surface with jagged pieces of ice raining down around her. As a sharp pain lanced her right arm, she instinctively sucked in a deep breath and found herself suddenly choking on salty seawater.

Elsa bolted upright in bed, dragging in large gulps of air. She sat still in the quiet room, trying to catch her breath. Once she had, she dragged a hand down her face, mildly surprised to find it damp with only sweat. She was thinking back on her dream when a soft knock at the door drew her attention. She glanced at the window, frowning as she realized she had slept straight through the morning. She supposed that _was_ the point of "strict bedrest," but still left her feeling as though she was wasting the day.

"Come in." she called out, hastening to straighten the corners of covers she had rumpled in her sleep.

The door opened and Anna bounced into the room, a large smile on her face and a stack of rumpled papers clenched in her hand. Elsa couldn't help but find the girl's energy infectious and returned the smile easily.

"How you are feeling?" Anna asked, settling herself at the end of the bed.

"Good. Much better." It was her last day of bedrest; tonight, the doctor would do a checkup and, provided everything was in order, Elsa could return to her duties tomorrow. And she was _positive_ that everything was going to be found in order. "I'm ready to not be confined to my room anymore."

Anna had the good grace to look like a scolded puppy, but Elsa knew her sister didn't regret forcing her into bed for a week. Elsa would never admit it, but she would have done the same thing to Anna had the situation been reversed. Though she suspected Anna would have been far more willing to laze about in bed for a few days being waited on hand and foot.

"You sure you feel better?" Anna asked, a small frown pulling at her mouth.

Elsa smiled patiently, knowing how much she had put her sister through the past few weeks. She reached out and squeezed Anna's hand. "I promise, I feel much better. No nausea, no headache."

Anna smiled back, laying her free hand over Elsa's. Her smile dropped suddenly, her brows wrinkling in confusion. She pulled her hand free of Elsa's and turned her sister's arm. "What's this?"

Elsa followed her sister's gaze, noticing for the first time the long gash that ran along the outside of her forearm, parallel to the bone. The cut stretched from just below her wrist almost all the way to her elbow. It wasn't deep but it did appear irritated. Now that she was aware of the wound, it was starting to throb lightly, like she'd stuck her arm into saltwater.

O _r seawater_ , Elsa thought, remembering the events of her dream, the crashing shards of ice and the sharp pain along her arm during her last attempt to cross the sea. She drew her arm closer and inspected the cut. Their lives may be crazy and filled with magic, but she was positive that if she told Anna she'd just cut her arm the exact same way in a dream, her sister may never let her leave her room again. She also didn't want to worry her sister when there was no need, she'd already put the poor girl through enough and there was always the possibility she scratched her arm against something in her sleep.

Feeling Anna's anxious gaze on her, Elsa looked up and shrugged it away, tugging her sleeve over the wound. "I'm not sure."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "You don't know? It looked kind of painful, not the sort of thing you just . . . miss."

"I probably just hit my arm on something in my sleep," Elsa insisted, almost believing it. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous the idea sounded, that she had cut her arm in her dream. She looked down at the rumpled papers in her sister's hand, where she could see sketches and notes scrawled haphazardly across the pages. "What are those?" she asked, curious but also wanting to move the conversation in a different, easier direction.

Anna's eyes lit up as she gestured to the papers excitedly. "Oh! I have an idea. I know you might be a bit hesitant but hear me out before you say no."


	10. Hiraeth

**_Never forget, somewhere between hello and goodbye there was so much love._ **

**-Unknown**

* * *

**30 August 1843**

Elsa didn’t know what time it was. She had lain in bed for hours, listening to the rain beat against the windows while the lightning lit up the sky beyond her balcony. Thunder rattled the panes, and after only an hour Anna, who still harbored her childhood fear of storms, had made her way to her older sister’s room and crawled into bed with Elsa as though they were still small children. But even with the comforting presence of her sister lightly snoring next to her, she hadn’t been able to sleep, and found herself quietly slipping from the room to wander through the residence wing with no clear destination in mind. 

Now, she stood just inside the threshold of her parent’s room, wring her hands as she studied the space in the darkness. _My room,_ she corrected herself. In the years since they were lost at sea, she had managed to avoid moving into the Royal Suite with the excuse that while she was governing in place of her lost parents, she had yet to be anointed Queen. This allowed her to remain in the room she’d had since she and Anna were separated as children. Once finally crowned, she avoided the change by simply being too busy to worry about switching castle rooms, and her head injury meant it made more sense to stay put until she had fully healed. It had now been two weeks since then, four since the coronation, and she had run out of reasons to put off the move. These quarters were hers now, but just standing in the room felt wrong. Three years wasn’t long enough. 

It was the Queen’s prerogative to use whichever room in the castle she desired, but there were reasons for the ruling monarch to reside in this particular room, aside from it being the royal suite. There was a private study attached to the sizeable bedroom, one Elsa could use after hours or when she knew there would be no reason for anyone to request a meeting with her. Convenience was one reason, but security was the main reason. These quarters were set at the end of an L-shaped hallway and were far enough from the more heavily trafficked areas of the castle that there was no reason for guests to accidently wander in. The bedroom faced the west side of the Fjord, and wide windows offered an open view of the ocean, making it unlikely that someone could sail unspotted into harbor. The study similarly faced the harbor, and large glass doors that opened into the courtyard, allowing a strategic view of the two directions that an enemy could attack from. A morbid necessity. 

Elsa wandered deeper into the room. Everything was just as her parents left it, just as it had been the last time she visited. Elsa hadn’t been able to bring herself to box up their belongings, or even ask the staff to. Anna didn’t have the authority; not without first getting permission from Elsa, and up until a few weeks ago, they had hardly spoken for years. The room was surprisingly free of dust; the maids had been diligent in keeping the quarters pristine. For that, she felt eternally grateful to Gerda and her staff, but it also gave the eerie feeling of her parents still being there, like they had just stepped out of the room for a few minutes, or had only gone away for the night, and if Elsa waited long enough, they’d be back. It was a dangerous thought to give into, considering the circumstances of their passing. 

She walked into her father’s study – her study. She crossed over to the desk, it’s surface barer than she’d ever seen it. The stack of documents her father left to be signed upon his return had been cleared fairly early, each sent off to appropriate party bearing her signature in his stead. But the inkwell, long since dried, remained in its designated place, and the stained fountain pen sat in a nearby holder, right where her father had left it. Elsa continued her circuit around the desk, taking in the space. It was smaller than the study she’d been using, but the room was of decent size, with bookcases along the walls and a daybed settled under a large window on the right side. A second door led into the hallway, so one could enter without having to come through the bedroom. During the day, generous sunlight streamed into the room, making it a warm and comfortable environment. 

Elsa allowed her gaze to drift around the room, faded memories making ghostly images across her field of vision. She smiled, recalling the days when her father would spend hours working at the desk while she and her mother sat on a blanket entertaining a tiny Anna. Elsa would sprinkle snowflakes over her baby sister, encouraged by the excited coos and giggles. Back when they were all together, when they were a family. Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to banish the image forever for the heartbreak it caused. At the same time, she desired to burn it into her mind, and never let it go. 

She slumped into the plush highbacked chair, struggling and failing to hold back the rush of emotions flooding through her. She wanted to curl into a ball and cry until she had nothing left to give, but knew she couldn’t give into that loss of control. She sat for a long time, listening to the sound of the storm raging against the castle as she worked to tap down on the overwhelming cacophony of emotions. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths around the lump in her throat. 

Three years wasn’t long enough. _Eighteen_ years hadn’t been long enough. A mere blink in the span of a lifetime, and Elsa didn’t even know why they had been taken. Three years later and she still didn’t know where her parents had sailed to, just that is wasn’t Corona. It was another secret. One she still hadn’t uncovered the answer to. 

Elsa drew in one final deep breath and pushed up from the chair. She moved back into the bedroom, where the staff had placed a line of trunks the day before. She told them she wanted to pack up her parents' room herself. It’s wasn’t that she didn’t trust the staff to do it, they were all kind people who wanted the best for the family, and had loved the former King and Queen of Arendelle dearly. This was just something that she needed to do herself. 

She wrapped her fingers around the handle of one trunk and dragged it into the center of the room. As lightning flashed outside, she opened her mother's wardrobe and after a moment’s hesitation, began removing the clothes hanging inside, carefully folding each item and placing it into the large trunk. 


	11. Leave it All Behind

_**Don't be afraid to start all over again. You may like your new story better.** _

_-unknown_

* * *

**16 September 1843**

_I am so late,_ Anna thought as she rushed down the spiral staircase that led from the castle's residency wing. Her sister was going to be so irritated with her. Elsa's brand of irritation with her, however, usually seemed to be equal parts frustration and amusement.

Anna rounded the corner that would take her to the dining hall, the soles of her shoes skidding across the freshly polished floor. "I'm here!" she called as she neared the room. "I'm here- _oof_." In her haste, she slipped again, colliding with the doorframe.

Seated at the table in a high-backed chair with a cup of coffee in her hands, Elsa raised an eyebrow. She sipped from her mug then set it down with care before speaking. "You know," she said, "if you woke up earlier, you wouldn't have to run down here for breakfast every morning."

Anna smiled guiltily and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she took her seat to Elsa's right. After only a few moments, the staff came in with breakfast. Or, Anna's breakfast – a bowl of rolled oats with fresh fruit and honey, a steaming mug of rich hot chocolate topped with sweet whipped cream. She assumed Elsa had already eaten while waiting for her, as happened on occasion. Her older sister tended to stick with a cup of coffee in the morning, sometimes with a piece of toast or bit of cheese. She preferred to have a heavier meal as an early lunch, which was a common practice in Arendelle. Anna on the other hand never shied away from a decent breakfast. Most of her days opened without any sort of appointments or commitments, but by late morning, she often found herself engaged in some activity that left her forgetting all about lunch until it was too late. And when that happened, she had to make the hard decision to either raid the kitchen – risking Gerda's wrath – or hold out until dinner was served. Honestly, she was surprised there wasn't a permeant dent on the back of her hand, from being whacked so frequently with Gerda's wooden spoon.

Elsa had every day scheduled down to the minute, but there were quite a few times when Elsa would work straight through lunch. Gerda always seemed to be far more forgiving of Anna's older sister, making sure some type of food was sent up to her office when this happened. Anna couldn't help but think there was some favoritism happening; or perhaps it was simply payback for all the times Anna had made a mess of the kitchen growing up.

It had been just over a month since the coronation and while she and Elsa had hit a few hiccups along the way – some bigger than others – they had settled into a sort of routine. Elsa woke at some ridiculous hour, usually before sunrise, and got some light work done, including reviewing the day's schedule with Kai, before making her way to the dining room to meet Anna for breakfast, which was supposed to be served at eight-thirty on the dot. Anna had never been very good at getting up at a specific time and was often late. Sometimes, like today, she was very late. Some days she woke so late that she worried the past month had been nothing but a dream and hurried downstairs half-dressed and in disarray, only to have relief flood through her as she found her sister waiting for her, a patient smile on her face.

Anna winced at her sister. "Sorry."

Elsa glanced at the clock on the mantle, whose hands Anna knew showed it was just before nine. She was twenty minutes late.

As always, Elsa simply smiled patiently as leaned back in her chair with her fingers wrapped around the steaming mug. "Any big plans for the day?" she asked conversationally.

Over the past few weeks, the sisters had become so much closer and more comfortable with each other, but thirteen years of separation was a hard thing to overcome, and sometimes it still felt like there was a yawning gap between them, a barrier separating them. Anna had spent her childhood growing up with the dream that she and Elsa would get the chance to be the best friends they were when they were younger. Finally, she was living that dream, but it was different than what she had expected. Slower moving. She could tell her sister was holding a lot back. Not intentionally, Anna told herself, but maybe instinctively. It had only been a month; they had all the time in the world to get to know each other again. The thought filled Anna with warmth. She had her sister back, and Elsa wasn't going anywhere. She just had to figure out a way to slowly bridge that gap that lay between them.

She shrugged as she dug her spoon into her oats. "Not really. I thought maybe I'd go into town, see if Kristoff is back from the mountains yet."

A pensive frown formed on the other side of Elsa's coffee cup.

Anna had slowly been learning her sister's tells, and was fairly certain this particular frown was the one that meant Elsa wanted to say something she knew was going to make Anna unhappy.

"What?" Anna asked, rather than waiting for her sister to gather her thoughts.

Elsa put her cup on the table. "I think it might be smart for you to have a guard with you when you leave the castle," she said slowly and carefully.

Anna was right about her sister's tell; she didn't like this idea at all. "Elsa, it's Arendelle," she protested. "I'll be fine. I promise not go wandering off."

Elsa pulled her hands into her lap, below the table and out of view, but Anna didn't need to see her sister's hands to know that she was wringing them absently. It was another tell; one she had identified very early on, and usually came when Elsa thought no one was paying attention. "There's a lot more activity in our port now, people from other countries coming and going. With everything that's happened recently, I – I don't think it's safe for you to wander around town alone."

"Elsa, I've been sneaking into town since I was like, twelve. Nothing has ever happened."

Elsa didn't look the least bit surprised at the information, leading Anna to wonder how long her sister had known that, what kind of tabs she had been keeping while they were living separate lives in the castle. "That was when the gates and port were closed off to all but a select few. Anna, you are no longer just a princess. You are the Crown Princess, and heir to the throne. There are a lot of people who would try to use you for their own gain, and many who would use violence in place of charm to get their way."

Anna wrinkled her nose. She knew exactly who her sister was referring to but refused to believe Hans was the rule rather than the exception. "Have you always been this untrusting?" she asked without thinking. She realized a moment too late how harsh the words can come out, and opened her mouth to apologize.

Elsa didn't give her the chance. "Comes with the territory," she said.

Anna shifted uneasily in her chair. "Father taught you not to trust people?" she asked in a joking tone.

Elsa didn't respond, and that said more than any verbal answer she could have given.

"Oh." She didn't know if the territory her sister was referring to was her magic or the fact that she was Queen, but decided it was probably best not to ask for clarification now. It was certainly something Anna would give further consideration, though. "Not everyone is a conniving, manipulative, jerk angling to steal someone's throne," she told Elsa. "That was one guy."

"Weselton?"

"Two," Anna relented. She knew her sister wanted her to be safe, but she also refused to believe that their entire lives had to change because of what this one person did. Okay, two people. "Two people, out of how many others?"

Elsa looked to the large windows that framed the left side of the private dining room. She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. The sisters sat in silence for a long time before she turned back to Anna. "How about a compromise?"

Anna placed her spoon in her empty bowl and tilted her head. "What kind of compromise?"

* * *

Elsa's compromise wasn't the worst thing Anna had ever agreed to – that was a spot taken by just about every decision she made on the day of Elsa's coronation – but she couldn't help but feel closed in. She wasn't required to have a guard next to her every moment she was out of the castle, but her agreement with her sister did mean she would have to check in with the town's guards so that they knew she was in town. So that they could keep an eye out. It still felt as though her freedom was being restricted, but her sister wasn't wrong, and Anna was thankful that Elsa was willing to give some leeway. She knew that as Queen, Elsa could have simply ordered a guard to escort her, and there wouldn't have been a whole lot Anna could do about it. At least this way she could continue to move about the town without feeling like she was being babysat.

Anna stretched out on the plush couch in the library, a book laying unread in her hands as she waited for her sister. Elsa had taken dinner in her study, _again_ , but had promised to meet her in the library for a dessert of hot chocolate. Anna looked down at the wrapped box on the side table, a wide smile spreading across her face. While in town she'd stopped by the bake shop, one of her favorite shops. The baker, Mary, and her husband Edgar had been running the shop for as long as Anna could remember. When she was younger, after the gates had been closed, she would sneak off to the shop and spend hours watching the couple mix ingredients together to create new and interesting desserts and pastries. While sampling as much as she could, of course. Inevitably, one of the castle guards would come to fetch her and she would get an earful from her parents, but that never stopped her. Besides, her parents never once seemed mad about it, just worried.

Today, the couple gave her a sample of a new recipe they'd gotten from some far-off land: a tart with cream cheese and fresh fruit. Anna knew Elsa would enjoy the treat and was excited to present it to her. Assuming she hadn't gotten lost in her work, _again_. It wasn't something that happened often; Elsa wasn't one to lose track of time or miss meetings, but she did have a habit of pushing back engagements that were not related to work, or rescheduling them all together in order to fit in a last-minute meeting or finish working on some document.

Anna pulled her knees up. tucking her feet under her. Several of those seemingly less important engagements had been times they had planned to spend together. She wanted to be understanding and tried not to feel hurt by her sister's actions, but couldn't help it.

"You look upset."

Anna looked up sharply. She'd been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard the door to the library open. She sat up and pushed away her hurt feelings, offering her sister a crooked smile. "I was worried you wouldn't make it."

Immediately, Elsa dropped her gaze and folded her hands in front of her. Apparently, Anna hadn't been so successful in disguising her disappointment. "I suppose I've been doing that a lot more lately."

Anna lifted a shoulder. "It's okay."

Elsa shook her head. "No, it's not." She sighed deeply and walked over to the couch, sitting down heavily. She tilted her head and looked as if she was debating something, then angled herself in the corner of the couch to face Anna, lifting an arm toward her.

It took a moment for Anna to realize that her sister was initiating contact. Elsa had been struggling over the last few weeks with physical contact between the two of them, flinching, sometimes even jerking away out of instinct before apologizing profusely for the ingrained action. Each time, Anna reassured her that it was okay and she wasn't taking it personally, always squashing the hurt feeling left behind when it happened. She always reminded herself that it wasn't that Elsa didn't want to touch Anna, but because she wasn't used to being touched. As their relationship continued to slowly progress the flinching was more common than Elsa outright pulling away, but this was the first time she chose to make the first move. The action delighted Anna, enough so that she almost completely forgot what had her moping just moments ago.

She quickly scooted across the couch and stretched out, laying her head on her sister's lap. Elsa smiled down at her, and Anna reached out to grab one of her sister's cool hands. As she wrapped her fingers around Elsa's, she felt the ripple of muscles through her sister's arm, along with a dip in the room's temperature. She knew that Elsa was most particular about people touching her ungloved hands, but she remained still, her hand draped over Anna's stomach, their fingers entwined.

After a few minutes passed, the temperature in the room stabilized, and they sat in comfortable silence. Elsa's free hand eventually found its way to Anna's hair and she brushed her fingers through the loose strands, reminding Anna of those times they had laid just like this as children, with their parents reading them stories.

Anna gazed up at her sister's face, watching as different emotions chased each other across her features. She couldn't help but wonder what Elsa was thinking but chose to remain silent and wait. She didn't want to risk breaking the comfortable atmosphere, she only wanted to enjoy this moment of being with her sister again, no door standing between them. Lulled into a drowsy state by the smooth, repetitive motion of her sister's fingers combing through her hair, she was starting to drift off when Elsa's voice broke through the haze.

"Anna," her sister said softly, pensively, her gaze staring unfocused on the roaring fireplace, "Do you know why people procrastinate?"

Anna wrinkled her nose, unsure whether this was some kind of trick question, or perhaps related their very brief exchange. She didn't answer right away, wanted to make sure she had the correct answer for her sister. She had never been one for procrastination herself, one of the few things she'd been praised for growing up. Once she had a task in mind, she liked to set out and accomplish it – unless she was distracted by something else, which happened. A lot. She didn't think that counted as true procrastination, because it wasn't intentionally putting something off. "Because they don't want to do something?" she finally offered, knowing that the few times she _had_ put something off, like tidying her room which would be only messy again in a few days, that had been the reason.

Elsa cocked her head. "Close, though I'm sure many do it for that reason."

When she didn't say more, Anna prompted, "what are other reasons?"

"Fear." Her sister breathed the word so quietly, Anna wasn't sure she had actually heard it.

She rubbed the pad of her thumb gently over her sister's hand, which seemed to pull her out of whatever thoughts she was getting lost in.

Elsa looked down at her and breathed in deeply, then averted her gaze, fixing it once more on the cackling fire. "People will sometimes put off a task or—" she bit her lip, seemingly having trouble finding the word she was looking for, "—or event." The word came out slowly, like it still wasn't the one she'd been searching for. "It might be something they have been looking forward to, but they still put it off because they are afraid that they might fail to live up to expectations, or that they will be unworthy of the task and others will realize that as well. That they will see them for the—" She stopped abruptly, a frown cutting across her face. Suddenly, she appeared far more upset than a simple conversation about bad habits should be causing.

"Elsa." Anna sat up, swinging her feet to the floor as she turned toward her sister. All of a sudden, she had a sinking feeling they weren't talking about bad habits and dirty bedrooms.

Her sister turned to face her, her wide-eyed gaze locking on Anna's.

She leaned forward, grabbing both of Elsa's icy hands in her own. "What are you talking about?"

Elsa looked down at their clasped hands. "I'm sorry. Anna, I haven't been avoiding—"

"I know." Anna hated interrupting her sister, but couldn't stand Elsa thinking that for even a minute. "You've been busy working."

"I haven't. I mean, I have," she quickly corrected herself. "But I kept pushing back and rescheduling time with you when—" Elsa pressed her lips into a thin line, still refusing to meet her sister's gaze. "I could have made it," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I was scared."

Anna chewed on her lower lip, trying to piece together these seemingly unrelated bits of conversation. Then it hit her, and she could see what her sister seemed unable to put into actual words. There was no way she had it right, though; she _had_ to be missing something, because there was no way her older sister was saying that she was afraid to spend time with Anna. "Elsa, are you saying you were afraid to spend time with me? That you kept putting it off because you were afraid to live up to my expectations?" She laid it out bluntly, knowing that she had to, to make sure there was no confusion past this conversation.

The crackling fire was the only sound in the room for a long time before Elsa finally answered. "You said before, that being sisters again, that being able to get to know each other again made you happier than anything. You said it had been the one dream you'd had since we were separated." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, steadying herself before continuing. "I was – I _am_ scared that I won't live up to what you imagined, and you'll be disappointed in me."

Anna barely held back her burst of laughter at the thought that Elsa, who could do anything, who knew like, everything, who was the literal Snow Queen, could ever be a disappointment to anyone, much less to _her_. The thought was as heartbreaking as it was comical. Anna considered her words carefully, understanding that this was one of those moments in which her reply could make or break what happened next. She squeezed Elsa's hands gently and dipped her head, searching for her sister's elusive gaze. "Elsa, I _have_ dreamed of this since I was little, and no, you could never be the sister in my dreams."

Elsa sucked in a breath and turned away, but Anna squeezed her hands again and followed the motion, leaning to the side to catch her sister's gaze once more. "But that's because the real you is _so_ much better than I could ever have dreamed of. Elsa, you could never disappoint me. Just sitting here next to you, or sitting in your office with you while you work – it's so much more than I ever dreamt about."

Elsa met her gaze with watery eyes, twisting her hands in Anna's until their fingers were intertwined. She leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "I don't deserve you."

Anna smiled widely. "Maybe, but you're stuck with me anyways," she said, drawing a chuckle from her sister. She had been waiting so long to hear that sound, and to hear it clearly, not restrained and muffled through a door. It sounded like the most beautiful music she had ever heard. "Are you okay?"

Elsa sniffed and nodded against her forehead. "I am now, thank you."

"Good, because you froze the couch and my butt is going numb."

"What?" Elsa looked down then jumped back. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." She waved her hand at the frost-covered couch, but nothing happened. She screwed up her face in concentration and tried again, this time vanishing the ice and leaving the cozy couch as it was before. Elsa drew her hands toward her chest, but before she could retreat into herself, Anna grabbed them and pulled her closer to her end of the couch.

"Now that we got all that settled." She waited for Elsa to smile and nod a confirmation. "Edgar and Mary, the owners of the bakery, wanted us to try this new recipe." Anna grabbed the box from the table and presented it to her sister.

Elsa accepted the box with a little more grace than it had been given, pulling the ribbon and opening the lid. "Oh." Her eyes lit up, and Anna grinned. Her sister loved her chocolate like any normal, breathing human being should, but had a soft spot for pastries with fresh fruit.

Elsa pulled at the sides of the box until it opened flat, forming a makeshift plate. They split the pastry and in a matter of minutes, there were not even crumbs left behind on the box. The girls traded satisfied smiles.

"That was fantastic," Elsa said, leaning back against the couch. "Tell the bakers I send my compliments."

"Mm," Anna agreed. "I wish there was more, though."

"You always wish there was more."

"I'm a growing girl!"

"You're eighteen, Anna," Elsa said with a laugh. "I think you're done growing."

"Well, then." Anna pushed up from the couch and walked over to the fireplace where she had hung a kettle earlier. "I guess that means since you are older and more . . . done growing, you don't need any hot chocolate."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "More done?"

"I stand by my statement."

"Mhm." Elsa tapped a finger against her chin. "I'm fairly confident that denying the Queen chocolate is considered a high crime. Punishable by a snowball down the back of your nightgown."

Anna narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't."

Elsa rested her chin on her hand, returning her sister's gaze with a slightly more 'innocent' one of her own.

As far as Anna was aware, her sister hadn't intentionally used magic since the day she thawed Arendelle, but Elsa also hadn't threatened her, either. Shoulder slumping, she sighed. Elsa wasn't one to make idle threats, and Anna preferred her clothes stay dry. Another day. "Fine," she said, with another exaggerated sigh, "but only because you are fighting dirty."

Elsa laughed. "All's fair in love and war, dear sister."

"Is this love or war?"

"With chocolate on the line? Always war."

Anna snickered and pulled the steaming kettle of water off the fire. She effortlessly went about making the two cups of hot chocolate, having plenty of practice doing so in the middle of the night in the kitchen while growing up. She returned with the mugs and sat down next to her sister, who had drawn her feet up under her.

They shared a comfortable silence, enjoying the hot chocolate. A thought struck Anna, and she turned to her sister. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Always," Elsa answered easily.

Anna set her empty mug aside and scrunched her face in thought before asking, "what all can you do with your magic?" She patted the air between them and quickly added, "you don't have to answer that if you don't want to." She knew her sister had concealed her powers for years at their parent's direction, but she wasn't sure how _Elsa_ felt about her magic.

Elsa too set her mug down on the coffee table. "To be honest, I don't know."

"You don't know?"

She shook her head. "After mother and father separated us, I spent more time trying to repress my powers than use them. I never really tried to see what I was capable of. I was too afraid I'd hurt someone, again. My ice palace was one of the first things that I intentionally created." She frowned thoughtfully. "Actually, Olaf would be the first thing I created."

"Yeah, and how does that work?" Anna leaned in. "I mean, he's alive but . . ."

Elsa shrugged. "I'm not sure. I promise you, Olaf was more of a surprise to me than anyone else. I'm still not sure how I managed that. Him, or Marshmallow."

"Are you connected to them in any way?" Anna asked, barely stifling a yawn. She wanted to talk all night, but it was late already, and there was sure to be another busy day ahead of them tomorrow.

"I am, but I think that's an experiment for another time," Elsa said with a light chuckle. "For now, I think it's time for bed."

Anna stretched out her arms, arching her back away from the couch, then flopped back. She laid her head back down on her sister's lap and twisted until she made herself comfortable.

"Anna," Elsa said with a playful warning in her tone.

Anna ignored it, far too comfortable and content. She breathed in deeply. "You smell like the forest."

Elsa looked down at her. "I like forest."

"That was mama's favorite." Her words slurred as her lids grew heavier.

"Yes, it was."

Anna snuggled down into her sister's lap. "It reminds me of her."

Elsa gently brushed the hair from Anna's face. "Me too."


	12. Blood On My Name

" _ **Real life's nasty. It's cruel. It doesn't care about heroes and happy endings and the way things should be. In real life, bad things happen. People die. Fights are lost. Evil often wins."**_

**-Darren Shan**

* * *

**21 September 1843**

Anna ducked into an unused room and sagged onto a covered chair, taking a quick breather before reentering the fray of people in the castle demanding her attention, wanting to know her opinion on every little detail and pulling her in multiple directions.

It was exhausting.

She had learned a lot while performing an abbreviated version of her sister's duties, most importantly that she needed Elsa to live a long, long life as Queen. It was one job Anna _never_ wanted. She loved her sister, and loved being able to help her, but didn't have the patience or tact to deal with the council or nobles. Not in the way that was expected of her. Elsa was all thoughtfulness and grace, delicately wrapped in a soft but solid confidence that drew people in and left them wanting to impress her. Anna, on the other hand, tended to be blunt, speaking and acting before thinking things through, which was something that got her into almost as much trouble as it had gotten her out of.

Something she had learned – the something that led Anna to her current predicament – was that after her sister's coronation, many of the visiting representatives had expected to do business with the new Queen. Renewing old alliances, forging new ones, negotiating trade agreements – things that Elsa had denied due to her injury and Arendelle's uncertain state after the storm. There were many countries that expressed their dissatisfaction over it, some louder than others.

So, after some lengthy discussions with various council members, Anna created and presented her sister with a plan. A festival to celebrate Arendelle's open gates and its new Queen. The festival would serve multiple purposes; it would give the people of Arendelle a chance to celebrate, to take their minds off the problems caused by the Queen's Winter, and would allow them to interact with the royal family in a more relaxed atmosphere. And for other countries, the festival would offer the chance to conduct the business they were previously unable to. The most difficult part of putting her plan in motion was giving those visiting dignitaries a reason to return to Arendelle so soon after leaving. She had an idea she was sure would work; she just had to get her sister on board.

Anna had waited until the last day of her sister's bedrest, when she knew Elsa was more likely to be relaxed and in a good mood. Even then, it had been a hard sell.

Elsa shook her head as she paced away from the bed, stopping in front of the large triangular window. She folded her arms across her stomach. "No, no, no, no."

Anna frowned and tucked her feet under her, looking down at the notes strewn across her sister's bed. "Why not?"

Elsa turned around, her lips pressed into a thin line and her hands still tucked under her arms. "Are you insane?"

She was pretty sure that was a trick question and chose not to answer it. "Elsa, it'll be fine I promise."

"You don't know that."

Anna sighed. She swung her feet over the side of the bed and joined her sister at the window, placing her hands on Elsa's arms. "I do. You'll be great."

Elsa bit her bottom lip, her glassy gaze boring into her own. She shook her head again and pulled away from Anna's hold. "No, Anna—" she took a few steps away before turning back. "What about food? Arendelle's crops were destroyed. We can't waste food on a festival."

"I'll take care of that."

Elsa gave her a skeptical look.

"Really, I have a plan. I'll take care of everything. The only thing you have to worry about is how you want to show off your magic." Anna tilted her head. "And, you know, the treaties and trade negotiations."

"You make it sound so easy." Elsa's shoulders dropped, and Anna knew from the gesture that her sister was going to give in, however reluctantly.

She closed the distance between them, reaching out and untangling her sister's hands to hold them in her own. Anna squeezed Elsa's cool fingers gently. "I won't let anything bad happen. I'll be right there the whole time. I promise."

Once she had convinced her sister to hold the festival, they spent the rest of the afternoon discussing details. Elsa agreed to let the celebration be about opening Arendelle's gates but was reluctant to bring more attention to herself than necessary, insisting that Anna and Kristoff also be honored for the part they played in ending the Queen's Winter. Even though she felt like she didn't really do that much, Anna reluctantly agreed. If nothing else, Kristoff deserved recognition.

The festival dates would fall close to the four-year anniversary of their parents setting sail on their last trip. After some thought, Elsa had decided they would move forward with holding the festival on the anniversary, and use the opportunity to celebrate their parents' lives, honoring the past and welcoming a new beginning.

With the festival now only two days away, guests were sailing in, last-minute plans were being made and adjusted, and Anna felt overwhelmed with the things that still needed to be done. She was determined to hold up her end of the promise, taking care of everything required for planning and organizing the festival, so that her sister would have as little to worry about as possible.

* * *

Captain Jogeir stood guard just outside the Queen's study, allowing the exhausted young woman a few moments of solitude. Despite Princess Anna's best attempts to shoulder the brunt of the workload there were still some things that required the Queen's personal attention. While Kai was assisting Anna with preparations for the festival, Jogeir had stepped in to pull double duty, guarding the Queen and trying to control the flow of traffic in and out of her office. Only those with clearance to do so were permitted inside.

Alongside the festival two ongoing issues were going to be resolved. The first being Hans, the prince from the southern isle. For the last month and a half, he had been confined as a prisoner in the castle while the Queen corresponded with the King and Queen of the Southern Isles and discussed his fate with the council. The official decision was being put to paper just this morning.

Hans wasn't the only prisoner being dealt with during this time. The castle's less infamous guests, the two guards from Weselton, would also be handled. An ambassador from a close ally would be retrieving them and returning them to the Duke with a decree from the Queen regarding the future of trades with Weselton. Captain Jogeir had received word from a reliable source that the Duke himself was on the ship, with the intention on forcing a meeting with the Queen. The captain had already taken steps to ensure that was not going to happen unless Her Majesty wished it so.

Jogeir had just finished shooing away a flower coordinator, directing them to seek out the princess instead, when the office door opened, and Queen Elsa stepped out with a folded document in her hands. He bowed. "Your Majesty."

"Captain," she returned with a nod of her head.

Jogeir waited for her to move down the hall before following. He didn't need her to tell him where they were headed; Kai had given him her schedule for the day and the Queen moved like clockwork. You could set your watch to her movements. It made his job easier than the alternative, as he was able to plan for guards to be positioned in key places long before the Queen arrived. On the other hand, from a security standpoint, it just as easy for others to track her movements, as well. It hadn't been a concern when the gates of the castle were closed, but now that they were open and more people were in and out of the castle, he was going to have to raise his concerns to the Admiral at their next briefing.

"Ready for the festival?" the Queen asked as they made their way down the hall.

Jogeir nodded. "We are, Your Majesty."

"Will you be working?"

"I will be on guard in the courtyard, ma'am."

Elsa smiled, looking reassured. He knew she was nervous about the entire affair. If he were honest, he was nervous too, and for much the same reason. Princess Anna had somehow managed to convince the Queen to offer a display of her magic at the festival. The idea was to show the people of Arendelle and anyone visiting that her powers were not something they needed to fear. Unfortunately, there was no way of knowing how people would react to even a passive display of her magic, and thus everyone involved was on edge. Well, everyone except the Princess, who was convinced everything would work out and had stated many times that everything would be okay. He sincerely hoped she was right, for the Queen's sake.

They walked in silence until they reached a door with two guards at either side. Despite his treatment of the Queen, Hans had not been held prisoner in a cell. Instead, as a prince, he was placed under twenty-four-hour guard in a small guest room only large enough to fit a bed, two comfortable chairs with a table between them, and a fireplace.

The guards snapped to attention and bowed before opening the door for the Queen.

"Wait out here," Jogeir instructed them as he followed Elsa and took up guard just inside the closed door.

Hans was lounging in a chair in front of the fireplace. As the Queen entered, he stood and offered an exaggerated bow. "Your Majesty."

As far as Jogeir knew – and it was his business to know – this was the first time since his confinement that Hans had contact with anyone but the men guarding him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Hans continued. His tone was dripping sweetness and already setting Jogeir's teeth on edge.

Elsa walked further into the room, stopping just to the side of the chair opposite Hans. "I felt I should come down and personally let you know what was going to happen in the next few days."

"How magnanimous of you. And here I was starting to worry you'd forgotten I was here."

"Hardly." Elsa stood stiffly, pursing her lips as she unfolded the paper in her hands. "Prince Hans, you are being charged with treason, attempting to usurp the throne of Arendelle, and attempted regicide. In two days', time, on the seventh of September, an ambassador, acting as a neutral party between Arendelle and the Southern Isle, will be arriving. At this point you will be handed over to his custody and returned to the Southern Isle where you will be tried for these crimes by the King and Queen."

Hans smiled. "I can see why it took you nearly two months to make those arrangements. Did you have to remind my parents which son I was? They tend to have a hard time remembering. It is awfully generous of you to send me back to them, considering you could have me executed."

Jogeir frowned. He didn't know whether the Prince was angling for sympathy or mercy from the Queen but did know that it was a fruitless endeavor either way. He knew the man would get none, not after everything Hans put them through, and what he did to Anna. Mercy was sending him home to be tried; many of the council members and guards wanted him to be put before Arendelle's courts.

"Even an unredeemable monster like you deserves a fair trial." Elsa refolded the paper and turned to leave.

"Tell me, Y _our Majesty_ , what about your own crimes? Have you told your sister what you almost did? What I stopped you from doing?"

Elsa froze, a deep frown creasing her features as she looked over her shoulder at the prince. "What are you talking about?"

Hans folded his arms across his chest, leaning lazily against his chair. "The two Weselton guards in your ice palace."

Jogeir had only a brief account of what had happened, given to him days after the events took place. When Hans had decided to go up the North Mountain after the Princess, he had ordered Captain Jogeir to stay behind in Arendelle, instead taking only a few guards – of questionable loyalty – with him.

"That was self-defense." Elsa's fingers curled around the paper held tightly in her hands.

Hans pressed his lips into a thin line, tilting his head. "Mmm, maybe, at first. But self-defense ends when your opponent has been subdued. By the time I arrived, those men were _terrified._ "

"And yet they still had the peace of mind to make another attempt on my life." The Queen's face remained impassive.

"And I saved you when they tried."

"You aimed for the chandelier."

"I told the guards that no harm was to come to you and then when you were knocked unconscious - " he pushed away from the chair and moved closer to the Queen, jabbing his thumb into his chest - " _I_ am the one who protected you and carried you down the mountain."

As the man moved toward Elsa, Jogeir stepped away from the door, placing his hand on the pommel of his sword and causing Hans to halt his approach. He stopped but did not step back.

"You were going to push that guard to his death," Hans said, face dark. "I can only imagine how the people of Arendelle would have responded to that. I'm not the only here who almost killed someone that day. But I would be the only one of us justified in doing so."

A muscle in Elsa's jaw jumped. "Justified?"

"You froze Arendelle and ran away." He lifted a shoulder. "For all I knew, killing you was the only way to stop the storm left in your wake, so yes, Your _Majesty_ , it would have been justified."

Jogeir shivered as the temperature in the room dropped. He wanted to step in but held his tongue, knowing it wasn't his place to speak. As he watched, faint traces of frost gathered on the paper clasped in the Queen's hands.

"And what reason do you use to _justify_ what you did to Anna?" she asked.

"What I did to her?" Hans snorted. "That's funny. The way I remember it, I wasn't the one that froze her heart."

"You lied to her. You told her no one loved her then left her to freeze to death."

"I couldn't save her and, true love's kiss?" he scoffed. "You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right? I did her a favor."

"A favor?"

"Better for her die hating me than spend her last moments thinking about how her sister hated her enough to freeze her heart."

Elsa's gaze narrowed. "That was an accident. I could never hate my sister; I would do anything for her."

Hans cocked his head. "And yet you threw her out, leaving her to freeze to death."

"I was trying to protect her."

"Considering she died anyways, I'd say you failed." Hans tapped a finger against his chin. "I guess that means I might have attempted murder, but you, Your Majesty, _did_ kill someone. Two people, as a matter of fact."

Elsa lifted her chin sharply, her brow furrowing. "Two?"

"Well, there's Anna," Hans said, taking a bold step closer to the Queen. Jogeir's fingers twitched in response.

"Who is fine now."

"Mmm." He shrugged, and his expression looked like he knew something they didn't. "You might want to ask her about that."

"She's fine." Elsa bit out forcefully, but the Captain heard fear creeping into her voice.

"And then, of course, there is the dressmaker's mother. What was her name?" He scrunched up his nose as though trying to remember.

 _Oh no._ Jogeir knew exactly what Hans was talking about. He had been the one to tell Princess Anna, who immediately requested he not tell the Queen, stating she would tell Elsa herself at a later time. To judge the look on Elsa's face, that was a conversation that had not yet taken place.

"I'm sorry, I assumed you knew her name," Hans said when Elsa remained silent. "I mean, you did kill her, after all." He shook his head and took another step.

This time Jogeir did step in, pressing a hand against the prince's chest and stopping him a few feet away from Elsa. "I think you've said enough, Prince Hans."

An icy hand gripped his forearm. "What are you talking about?" Elsa's eyes were wide, and frost was forming on Jogeir's sleeve where her hand rested.

Hans eyes widened in kind, accompanied by a smile that could only be described as gleeful. "You don't know." He chuckled and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, stepping back from Jogeir. "That's just priceless. How blameless you must think yourself in all this."

"Tell me what you are talking about," she ordered in a sharp tone.

"The dressmaker," Hans obliged. "Her mother died due to complications brought on by _your_ storm."

Elsa stumbled back, shaking her head. "You're lying," she said, her voice cracking around the words.

"While you were hiding up in your mountain, her daughter came to me at the castle begging for help for her mother," Hans spat. "She was freezing to death."

"Enough." Elsa's breathing sped up, was beginning to become erratic.

"I tried to help but it was too late. The doctor said she had fluid in her lungs."

"The Queen said enough," Jogeir growled. He wanted to put a stop to this conversation before it got out of hand.

Hans ignored him, his gaze locked on Elsa. "I imagine she spent her last moments feeling like she was drowning. A slow, terrible way to go."

"I said enough!" Elsa stepped forward, and as her foot hit the ground ice shot across the floor in all directions. A cold wind swept through the room, knocking both men to the ground while extinguishing the fireplace. The room dimmed, lit only by the midday sun through the windows behind Hans.

The wind was knocked out of Jogeir as hit the ground. He struggled to catch his breath as he pushed himself shakily into a sitting position. He couldn't keep his shock from his face; having been patrolling the castle walls on the night of the coronation, he had never seen the Queen's powers up close before.

Elsa jumped back, her eyes wide, gasping for air as she wrapped her hands around her waist.

Hans pulled himself to his feet, steadying himself on the chair. "Admit it. You don't hate me because I almost killed you. You hate me because I didn't."

"You don't know what you're talking about." She glared at Hans, her hands still hidden from view and her breaths coming in sharp gasps.

Hans brushed ice from his shirtfront. "You're angry because of what I did to Anna, sure. But mostly, you're angry because you know if I hadn't brought you down from the mountain, if I hadn't followed you out on the frozen fjord, Anna wouldn't have sacrificed herself to protect you and she'd still be frozen along with Arendelle."

Jogeir made his way to his feet but kept his distance. He couldn't touch Hans unless he threatened the Queen, but the situation had spiraled far out of control and he wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off Hans' face in the most violent way he could think of.

"You can call me an unredeemable monster, but I am far from the only monster in this room."

The Captain carefully navigated his way across the frozen floor, working through a plan to remove the Queen from this situation before things got worse. Before he decided what to do, she drew herself up, lifting her chin and pulling her shoulders back.

"Prince Hans, regardless of what the King and Queen of the Southern Isle decide as your fate," she said, her voice shaky but gaining strength, "you are forever banned from Arendelle and her territories under pain of death. Once you board that ship you are never to step foot on these shores again."

Hans bowed with a smirk. "As Her Majesty commands."

Elsa turned on her heel, leaving the frozen room to thaw naturally. Jogeir followed her out with much less confidence or grace, taking more time and effort to reach the door. Before closing the door behind him, he glared darkly at Hans.

Elsa walked down the hallway with her hands clasped tightly to her stomach. She was moving quickly, and halfway down the hall before the Captain managed to catch up with her. When he did, she stopped suddenly and turned to face him. Her face was stormy, but he could see tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Captain, I expect your utmost discretion regarding what happened in there. What transpired will not be repeated to anyone, least of all my sister." It was unquestionably a command, one that left no room for argument.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Jogeir replied immediately. Something Hans had said stood out to him, and he knew if he was ever going to ask, this was likely the only chance he'd get. "Your Majesty, if I may ask . . ."

Elsa rolled her lips against her teeth and nodded, a single, sharp bob of her chin.

"Prince Hans said you hated him not because he tried to kill you but because he didn't. Is there any truth to that?"

Elsa looked away, pointing her gaze down the long hallway, then turned back to him and handed over the crumpled and frosted document. "Give this to Kai. He'll know what to do with it. Have him also inform my sister that I will not be joining her for lunch." After a moment she added, "or dinner tonight."

Jogeir knew a dismissal when he heard it. He would not be getting a true answer to his question, though her avoidance was as much an answer as any she could have given. Perhaps more so. He bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

She walked away down the hall in the direction of the residency wing. With so many people in and out of the castle, he didn't like the Queen not having a guard nearby but knew any suggestion he made would not be taken well at the moment, and there was always a patrol around the Queen's and Princess' rooms. He looked down at the paper then headed off toward the great hall, where he was sure to find the castle's butler. Walking in silence, Jogeir berated himself for allowing the conversation with Hans to get so out of hand, though he understood there wasn't much he could have done without overstepping himself.

He found the butler speaking animatedly with a young man holding a clip board pointing at various locations around the room. Jogeir cleared his throat to catch his attention.

Kai looked up. "Captain," he greeted with surprise, his gaze moving around the space behind Jogeir then back questioningly.

"The Queen asked me to deliver this to you." He handed the paper out to him. "She said you'd know what to do with it."

Kai took the paper and inspected, taking note of its crumpled state and the watermarks. "Did you get into some kind of fight on the way?"

Jogeir cleared his throat once more. "That was, uh, the Queen's doing. Not mine."

Kai pressed his lips into a thin line but made no comment.

"I was also to ask you to inform the Princess—"

"Inform me of what?"

The Captain barely refrained from jumping. He was usually much better about not allowing people to sneak up on him, but his nerves were frayed. "Your Highness," he said with a bow.

"Captain Jogeir," Anna returned with a smile, practically bouncing with energy. "You are looking well today."

"Thank you, my lady." He turned to face her fully. "The Queen sends her regrets that she will not be able to join you for lunch today, or dinner."

Anna face immediately fell. "Is she okay?"

He didn't want to lie but was doubtful that company, however well-meaning, was something the Queen wanted or needed right now. "She was hale and hearty when we parted ways just moments ago."

Kai stared at him with a less-than-believing look that the captain chose to ignore.

Anna bit down on her lower lip. "Maybe I should go check on her." She started moving away but before Jogeir could stop her, one of the many people moving about the great hall intercepted the Princess for him, calling for her attention as he rushed over with a stack of papers in his hands.


	13. Weight of the World

_**Never have I dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul** _

**\- Imam al-Ghazali**

* * *

**21 September 1843**

Elsa kept her head lowered as she walked quickly down the long hallway. Everything she had just learned from Hans had her mind spinning with the information. She wanted to believe nothing he said was true, that he was making it up, telling her lies for no other reason than to be cruel for cruelty's sake. It wouldn't be the first time. She had clung to the hope he was lying, but that fleeting hope had been shattered when she saw the look on Captain Jogeir's face. The pity and sympathy he had tried – and failed – to hide was all the conformation she needed.

Her hurried steps slowed as the memory of his expression made her realize something. _He knew._ Not only did the Captain know about the woman's death, but he knew that she _didn't_. Elsa's pace continued to slow, until she came to a full stop. She knew Captain Jogeir well enough to know he would never make the decision to not tell her something like this.

She turned and looked back the way she came with a narrowed gaze. The Captain would have collected the survey reports from the town and sent them directly to her.

_No_ , Elsa realized with a start. The reports were first sent to Anna, who collected and summarized the various reports into one, before bringing them to her. The Captain wouldn't have made the decision to keep this information from her, but her well-meaning sister would, and could, convince him to do so. She knew why her sister would do such a thing, and why the Captain would agree to it.

They didn't trust her. And really, why should they? Elsa had set off an eternal winter and nearly destroyed her own kingdom, and that had happened when she was perfectly healthy. When these reports had been coming in, she had been suffering from a head injury that was making both her emotions and magic unstable.

And now, when the information finally made its way to her, Elsa was doing exactly what they had expected her to do, what she had done on the night of her coronation.

She was running away. Again.

Elsa wrapped her arms around herself, hunching her shoulders. She couldn't properly govern the kingdom if those closest to her kept such information from her. The idea that they had done so irritated her, the fact that she had been forced to learn such sensitive information from her enemy made her see red. But at the same time, she couldn't expect the very same people to not withhold certain information if they feared she was going to react poorly.

Elsa looked across the hall, for the first time noticing that she had stopped in front of the large painting of her mother and father. She walked closer, laid her palm against the oiled canvas.

This was her fault. Her doing. She had to fix this.

She looked up at the strong, soft face of her father. "What would you do?"

_Everything._

That's what she had to do, and what she _would_ do. No matter how much the information hurt her, no matter how it made her want to run and hide and break into a million tiny pieces, Elsa knew that she couldn't allow herself that sort of luxury. She was the Queen, and she had a responsibility to her people. She had to lead them, to put them first, and be strong when no one else could be. She had already failed them once; she would have to work twice as hard now to prove herself trustworthy and up to the task. She had to ensure that they could depend on her to be the steadfast and unwavering force that her father had been, and his father before him.

_Conceal, don't feel._ It had been Elsa's motto throughout her childhood, and it would serve her into adulthood.

She would have to speak with both her sister and Captain Jogeir, but that could wait until after the festival. Elsa turned away from her room and headed back toward her study, her fingers rolled into a loose fist at her side.

She had so much work to do.

* * *

Much to her displeasure, it was several hours before Anna was able to sneak away from the throng of people who were requiring her attention and input. She had a newfound sympathy for her sister and wondered how the woman handled such a demanding position on a daily basis. She supposed it could be the reason there was such a long process for citizens to get approval and appointments to see the Queen. Among other, obvious reasons.

Captain Jogeir had assured her that Elsa was okay, and her sister’s decision to skip both lunch and dinner wasn’t nearly a sign of impending doom, but Anna couldn’t shake the feeling in her gut that something was wrong. So, the moment she got a chance to break away, she wolfed down a quick lunch and then set out to find her sister. It didn’t take long; while the castle was large and had many rooms, Elsa had her usual haunts. She was usually in one of four places, most commonly her office.

The door to the office was open, with a guard standing outside as per the new normal requirement, due to the increased traffic from the festival. Anna poked her head over the threshold and sighed in relief. The room had a faint chill to it that could easily be explained by the open balcony door, which allowed a light ocean breeze to blow into the room. There was nothing immediately concerning.

Elsa seemed to be always very alert and aware of her surroundings, so it was a rare instance to catch her in a moment of quiet. Anna stood just inside the door and silently studied her sister, watching Elsa’s movements when she thought no one was looking and committing them to memory. The Queen was sitting back in her chair, reading a document. One arm was propped on the armrest, her fist resting against her chin while she stared down at the paper in her other hand. The chair was angled toward the open window, allowing the rays of the late afternoon sun to warm her right side and cast a halo effect around her. But for the wrinkle between her brow, Elsa appeared relaxed as she focused intently on the document she was reading.

Only a moment passed before Anna knew she had to make her presence know, without startling the older woman. As much fun as it was, Elsa rarely had the same good humor she did about such things, especially when startling her tended to result in a sudden burst of ice. She folded her arms behind her back and stepped further into the room, clearing her throat softly.

Elsa turned toward the noise, the wrinkle in her brow tightening. “Anna.” She repositioned herself and the chair to face the desk and glanced past Anna to the empty hallway. “Is something wrong?” she asked, returning her attention to her sister.

Anna shook her head and walked up to her sister’s large desk. “Captain Jogeir said you wouldn’t be down for lunch or dinner.” Her gaze fell on the seemingly untouched lunch tray sitting on a small table next to the desk.

Elsa’s gaze followed, then she looked back to Anna, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m afraid I fell behind on some work. It’s taking longer than I expected to catch up on it.”

“You - “ Anna was physically rocked back a step as she attempted to process what her sister just said. She gestured toward Elsa with an open hand. “ _You_ fell behind on work?”

Elsa absently tapped a fingertip against the desktop, not quite meeting her sister’s gaze. “I did not expect so many dignitaries to be willing to return so soon. There is a lot to get ready in preparation for them, and it has left me far busier than I expected.” She spoke deliberately, like each word was chosen with care.

Anna frowned, feeling as though there was something her sister wasn’t telling her. “Too busy to eat?”

“Anna,” Elsa returned, a warning in her tone.

She held up her hands. “I’m just asking.”

Her sister pressed her lips into a tight line, her finger still tapping against the desktop, her gaze still not quite meeting Anna’s. “Yes, for the moment, too busy to take meals in the dining room.”

Something was wrong; Anna knew it for sure now. Elsa wasn’t an overly expressive person, physically or emotionally, but everything about her in this moment seemed even more subdued than normal, like she was pulling in on herself. “Elsa,” she said as she sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk. She lowered her chin enough to catch her sister’s gaze. “Is everything okay?”

Elsa’s tapping finger stilled. Her gaze narrowed, taking on a faraway look, like she was debating something internally. After a long, tense moment, she finally lifted her head and met her sister’s concerned gaze. “Anna,” she said, her voice firm but light, “is there anything you need to tell me?”

The sinking feeling in her stomach was back. Anna knew this question, just like she recognized the look on her sister’s face, one she had seen on her mother’s plenty of times when she was growing up. This question was a trap; their mother had only asked _is there something you need to tell me_ when she had already caught Anna doing something wrong and was giving her a chance to admit to it. Elsa wouldn’t be asking such a thing if she didn’t already know something, or at least suspect something. Anna thought back over the last few days but couldn’t readily think of anything that would prompt such a question – let alone feeling – from her sister.

“I don’t think so,” she answered with a shake of her head, but the feeling in her gut lingered. “Is there?”

Elsa released a heavy sigh and folded her hands on the desktop. “No, I suppose not.”

Anna knew she had given the wrong answer, that Elsa had expected her to say something different. As she watched, she could practically see her sister raise her walls around herself and reinforcing them. Anna feared that what Elsa was attempting to protect herself from was _everything_. She leaned forward in her seat, reaching out to cover her sister’s cold hands with her own. “I know something is wrong, Elsa. What is it?”

Her sister looked down at their hands and sat back in her chair, gently sliding her fingers from beneath Anna’s.

There was no helping the sharp stab of hurt that echoed through Anna’s chest as her sister broke contact and pulled away.

“Something was wrong,” Elsa said, folding her hands on her lap. Coolly, she met Anna’s gaze once more. “But I think I figured out the source of the problem and am in the process of fixing it.” She offered another smile, but again, it failed to reach her eyes.

Anna wasn’t satisfied to leave the conversation like this. “Elsa - “

“I have a lot of work to do, and I believe you do as well.”

Something in Anna’s chest broke at the note of finality in her sister’s words, a tone that conveyed an order from her Queen rather than a suggestion from her sister. She wanted desperately to know what had caused Elsa to shut herself off once more but knew her sister well enough to understand that once she made the decision that a conversation was over, there was no point in trying to push it. Doing so would only cause Elsa to close herself up even more. Anna would have to wait her sister out, even though the thought left her feeling anxious. She didn’t like leaving Elsa alone when something was wrong, but there was nothing more she could do now.

She stood, folding her hands in front of her. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said, meaning it to be a statement, but it came out more as a question.

Elsa didn’t offer much in the way of an answer, or even an acknowledgment. She simply dipped her chin, then reached across her desk to pull a ledger closer. With that, she returned to her work, leaving Anna to do the same. 


	14. Longing for Summer

_**You've worn guilt like an iron mask, welded to you, because you're convinced that you're to blame for what happens to everyone else. You martyr yourself for things you're not responsible for. And you end up hurting the people you care about because you push them away, believing you're protecting them.** _

_-Someone_

* * *

** 28  September 1843 **

As soon as the rain let up, Anna collected Kristoff and headed out for a walk into town for some things she'd been wanting to pick up from the shops there. They didn't get even halfway across the courtyard before running into an extremely muddy Olaf who was making a beeline for the castle, trailing mud with every step. With an amused chuckle, Anna quickly intercepted the small snowman before he reached the castle doors and instead diverted him toward the garden.

Apparently, Olaf had spent the morning in town, playing in the rain with some of the children. Anna's first instinct was surprise that the little snowman hadn't melted in the rainfall, but she was soon preoccupied with exactly how she could get him clean of the thick mud that seemed to have soaked into his snowy body.

She and Kristoff settled onto a bench and watched Olaf run around the castles garden. Anna was sure they would need Elsa to fix Olaf before he would be permitted go back inside, but her sister was in a meeting with some prince from a distant country and there was no telling how long she'd be. It was already late afternoon, and there was a good chance that the Queen had another meeting scheduled after this one.

It had been a week since the festival, and the day had gone off without a hitch. Anna's sister had made a beautiful ice rink and ice sculptures, and there had even been a snowball fight with both child and adult participants. Despite Elsa's nervousness about displaying her powers in front of people, both the attending citizens and foreign visitors were awed by what she was able to do. She had seemed to enjoy herself, grinning widely with each subsequent use of her magic. Elsa had even dragged Anna out onto the ice, and between her and Olaf they managed to teach her how to ice skate.

Even as she watched her sister enjoying the festivities, Anna couldn't help but think back on the conversation they'd had in her office the previous day. She might have brushed off the awkward exchange as simply her sister being tired and busy, but several odd, subtle suggestions – and some not-so-subtle – clung stubbornly in her mind. Something had happened, something that caused Elsa to make a full and hard retreat into herself. Despite the fact over a week had passed since that conversation, Anna hadn't yet gotten the chance to approach her sister one-on-one again. The final days leading up and during the festival had been busy for both sisters, dragging them in opposite directions as they tended to different obligations.

After the festival concluded, Elsa jumped straight into a full schedule of meetings with the various foreign visitors, managing what negotiations of trade and alliances she had been unable to conduct in the days after her coronation. Anna hadn't seen her sister for more than a few minutes all week, as Elsa continued to take all her meals either in her office or as working lunches with other nobles. The last of the scheduled meetings were taking place today, and Anna was determined to find a way to ask her sister about that conversation. She had to settle the nagging feeling in her gut and ensure Elsa was all right.

"It's sort of odd, isn't it?"

Anna turned to Kristoff with a small frown as his question drew her from her thoughts. "What?"

He leaned back on the bench, placing his weight on his hands, and dipped his head toward Olaf, who was bouncing about with seemingly relentless energy as he picked flowers from the garden. "Olaf."

"What about him?"

He frowned thoughtfully and didn't speak for a moment. "Olaf loves all things summer, right? The heat, the sun - they're his favorite things."

"Right," Anna said, drawing out the word.

"So, why create a snowman that loves summer? By his very nature, the thing he enjoys most is the one thing he can never have." After another long pause, Kristoff added, "I mean, not without the Queen's snow flurry to keep him from melting."

"Oh." Anna returned her attention to the hyper, muddy snowman. "I know Elsa didn't mean to create him."

"Which means that whatever thought she put into him was subconscious," Kristoff said with a shrug.

Anna cocked her head. She hadn't stopped to put much thought into it before. She had always just assumed that Olaf's love for summer came with his love for warm hugs, but now she wasn't so sure it was that simple. She wasn't even sure Elsa would have an answer for her if she asked about it. Before she could respond, Olaf bounded up to them with his stick hands full of a variety of flowers.

"Olaf," Anna said with a chuckle, "what are you doing?"

"I picked flowers for Elsa." He held out the bouquet to show her. "So that she stops being sad."

Anna frowned, taken aback by the snowman's words. "Why do you think she's sad?"

"Oh my god, Olaf!" Elsa's cry stole his chance to reply. She emerged from the castle's side door and walked quickly toward the group, her expression a mixture of barely concealed amusement and exasperation. "What happened?"

"Elsa!" Olaf exclaimed with excitement. "I played with the children in town and then it started raining and we jumped in the mudpuddles and then Anna said I couldn't go inside while covered with mud and that I had to wait until I wasn't muddy anymore."

Elsa's amusement quickly overtook the exasperation, and she chuckled lightly. "Well, Anna is very smart. I am fairly certain Gerda would kill you and I both if you trailed mud into her clean castle."

Olaf tilted his head, looking confused. "I thought it was your castle?"

Elsa smiled and tapped a finger against her chin, debating the problem in front of her. After a moment, she held her hand out toward him. "Okay, hold on."

Anna watched in fascination as every trace of mud was slowly pulled from Olaf's snow. With a few smooth waves of Elsa's hand, the snowman stood pristine white once more.

Olaf giggled as he looked over himself. "That tickled." He held out the bunch of flowers to Elsa. "I picked these for you, so you wouldn't be sad anymore."

Elsa's eyes widened as something flashed across her face. Before Anna could properly identify the emotion, it was hidden behind a smile. Elsa knelt in front of Olaf and gently took the haphazard bouquet of flowers from him. "Thank you, Olaf. You're very sweet." She stood and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Now, if you can manage to keep yourself clean so I can finish these meetings - "

"Hold on a second," Anna said quickly, unwilling to allow her sister to leave without addressing what Olaf had said. "Olaf, why do you think Elsa is sad?"

"Anna," Elsa said sharply. It was a warning, but Anna ignored it, keeping her focus on the snowman.

"Oh," Olaf said brightly. "Elsa thinks that you don't trust her and that's why you didn't tell her about Asia's death. That's why she's been sad all week."

Anna felt as though the air was rushing out of her lungs. Suddenly, her sister's trap of a question the week prior, and her reaction to Anna's answer, made a lot more sense. She raised her gaze to her sister to see that Elsa had closed her eyes and wrapped one arm over her stomach, the flowers still gripped in her hand. The other hand was pressed against her forehead, and the expression on her face was unreadable.

"Elsa—"

Olaf frowned. "Now she's not sad, she's—" He turned to Kristoff. "What was that word again?"

"Irritated?" Kristoff supplied helpfully.

"No."

"Annoyed?"

"No."

"Angry?"

"No. Wait, what was the first one?" Olaf asked.

Kristoff opened his mouth but snapped it shut as the Queen narrowed her gaze at him. "Um, actually," he said, swallowing thickly. "I think I should check on Sven. I'm sure he needs—something. Olaf, why don't you come with me?"

"Oh, yes!" Olaf bounced excitedly. "He promised to tell me a story about the time he. . ." Olaf rambled on as he followed Kristoff, who was making a hasty retreat.

Anna waited until they were out of earshot before turning back to her sister. "Elsa—"

Elsa held her hands up between them and took a step back. "Anna, I can't. Not now. I have another meeting in ten minutes. I only came down because Kai told me that Olaf was filthy, and Gerda has enough to worry about without a snowman tracking mud into the castle."

"Elsa." Anna stood and stepped toward her sister. "We can't keep not talking about this."

She shook her head firmly, stepping further away. "It's okay, Anna. Really. I understand why you did it and I don't blame you."

Anna knew it wasn't as simple as that but before she could say anything more, Elsa turned and moved quickly back toward castle. She debated whether she should go after her sister but knew she would have to wait until at least until that night, when Elsa was done with the trade meetings.

She sighed in defeat and turned instead to follow Kristoff and Olaf. Maybe they would have some advice, or at least something to distract her with until Elsa was free.

* * *

Elsa waited until the Vesterland's trade minister fully exited the room, then leaned forward and pressed her cold fingertips against her hot, achy forehead with a heavy sigh. She had been getting headaches these past two months with a concerning frequency, enough so that she gave in to the pain and sought out her physician earlier in the week. He told her that such headaches were commonplace after the type of head injury she'd suffered and reassured her that they would lessen before disappearing all together over the course of the next few months. A few more months of these headaches was not something Elsa was looking forward to. The additional information she'd got from him in that visit certainly hadn't helped matters.

A throat was cleared across the room, then Kai said, "Your Majesty."

Elsa dropped her hands to the desktop and pulled herself upright, thinking, _one last meeting._ Just one more, then she could retreat to her private study, sign a few papers, and tuck into bed. At least this meeting should be concluded far quicker than the rest. "You can send him in."

Kai bowed and went to the door, gesturing for the someone to enter while Elsa found the needed document and arranged it in front of her. She looked up and smiled as her guest entered. "Mr. Bjorgmen. Please have a seat," she said, motioning to the two chairs across the desk. Despite the fact he had spent a great deal of time with Anna over the last few months, Elsa realized that she and Kristoff had spent very little time together. She knew that was something she should probably remedy, but it was a conversation for another time. This meeting was business-related.

Kristoff bowed nervously before depositing himself into one of chairs. "Your Majesty," he said. He shifted uneasily before adding, "uh, sorry, about earlier. . . in the garden. With Olaf."

Elsa stared blankly, unsure what exactly he was apologizing for. Then she remembered the dirty look she had given him when he was 'helping' Olaf come up with the right word to describe her mood. She offered him a reassuring smile. "It's fine. I appreciate your efforts in helping Olaf expand his vocabulary, even if it wasn't exactly the best timing."

Kristoff opened his mouth but immediately shut it, offering a simple nod of his head instead.

Elsa waited a moment, but when it didn't seem like he was going to say anything more, she turned her attention to the paper in front of her. "I imagine Anna has already told you of my decision to appoint you as Arendelle's official Ice Master and Deliverer. I wanted to go over what those duties entail and offer you the opportunity to refuse the post, if you should so wish."

He perked up, sitting straighter in his chair. "Wait, that's a real thing? The position?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows. "You didn't think I just made it up for your sake, did you?"

"No, no . . . uh." Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe?"

Elsa chuckled. "While I appreciate the thought, I fear I am nowhere near that creative. This position is very real but hasn't been filled for quite some time. With the gates open and the expected increase in trade opportunities, I think now is a good time to fill the old role once more. Anna thought you would be perfect for the position and very passionately argued in your favor."

Kristoff's face reddened and he shifted nervously. "And you, Your Majesty?" he asked hesitantly.

"I look forward to seeing what the future holds." Elsa said. "Assuming you want the job." She picked up the document and offered it to him. He hesitated before taking it. "This is a list of the responsibilities and privileges associated with the position," she continued. "You do not need to give me an answer now. Look it over, think on it, and bring me an answer when you are ready. You should also know the sled and equipment Anna presented you with earlier are not contingent on your answer. They are yours no matter your decision."

He looked down at the document. "Thank you."

Elsa nodded curtly. "If there is nothing else, you are free to go."

Kristoff raised his head, lips pressed together in a thin line. Wordlessly, he stood and started for the door.

Elsa pulled a stack of papers toward her, gathering what documents she wanted to take along to her private study.

"You're her hero. You know that, right?"

Elsa startled, raising her head to see that Kristoff had stopped halfway across the room and turned back to her. She met his eyes. "Excuse me?"

He took a few steps toward the desk, looking like a man who was about to sign his death warrant but was doing so willingly. "Anna. She practically worships the ground you walk on."

"Oh." Unsure what to say, Elsa dropped her gaze and folded her hands tightly on top her desk. She opened her mouth to speak, but much to her surprise, Kristoff didn't offer her the chance.

"I've spent a great deal of time with her since the trip up the North Mountain," he said. "She's told me on multiple occasions that she sometimes wakes up afraid that these last two months were nothing more than a dream, and one day she'll find the gates closed and your door locked." Kristoff continued to move forward as he spoke, until he was standing just behind the chairs. "The entire climb up the North Mountain, she never stopped believing in you. Even after you froze her heart, even when she thought you hated her, she still placed herself between you and a sword because losing you was, and is, her greatest fear."

Elsa fought the urge to chew on her bottom lip. She knew all of this already. She hated that she knew it, and even more, that it was true. She took a steadying breath before lifting her gaze to meet his. "What is your point?" she asked, keeping her tone soft but firm, as she did not yet know where the man was going with his very bold statement.

"True unconditional love and devotion like that is very rare," Kristoff said, maintaining eye contact. "And even rarer are people who deserve it."

A wrinkle formed between Elsa's brows as she narrowed her gaze a fraction. "Mr. Bjorgmen, are you saying that I don't deserve my sister's love?" She already knew the answer but couldn't pretend that it didn't hurt to hear it said by someone else.

Kristoff shook his head. "No, Your Majesty. I'm saying that none of us do." He sighed deeply. "But for better or worse, that's not a choice we get to make."

She studied the man standing before her, suddenly realizing she may have seriously underestimated him. "No, it is not."

He stood there for a moment, averting his gaze as he debated his next words. "Ever since I met Olaf, I . . . you created a snowman who longs for summer. I thought it was weird, cruel even, to make him want the one thing that could destroy him. Then today, Olaf told me he was created as an extension of you and of Anna, the love you share for each other. I thought about everything Anna has told me about your childhood, and hers, and I think I get it. I understand why you created a snowman who longs for summer. But . . ." He shook his head, turning to meet her gaze once more. "You know, it won't destroy you. Anna stood between you and a sword without a second thought. She won't let you fall. Not now."

Elsa frowned and sat back in her chair, wrapping her arms around her middle. She suddenly felt uncomfortably exposed, laid bare before the last person she expected. Whenever Anna talked about Kristoff, she painted him as a simple, goofy, slightly awkward ice harvester. Elsa saw now that couldn't be further from the truth.

Kristoff shrugged and took a step away from the desk. "I just thought you should know."

Elsa dipped her chin and forced herself to drop her hands from the protective position. Instead, she folded them once more in front of her. "Whether or not you take the position of Ice Master and Deliverer, you should join Anna and I for dinner later this week when you have the free time."

"I think Anna would like that very much."

"And you?"

A moment passed before the corners of Kristoff's mouth turned upward. "I look forward to seeing what the future holds, Your Majesty."

* * *

Even after Kristoff left her office, Elsa waited another few minutes before she once more collapsed forward over the desktop, bracing her elbows on the polished surface and tenting her fingers against her forehead. Despite the lighter note the conversation had ended on, she had been left felt overwhelmed, her thoughts taken over by everything that had been said and done over the past week. She knew that she was hurting her sister with her actions, and her distance, though it had never been her intention. Learning of Asia's death had been a hard blow, and Hans couldn't have picked a worst time to deliver it if he tried.

Elsa hadn't been lying when she told Anna that she didn't blame her. She truly wasn't angry with her sister; she was angry about how she found out about the woman's passing, about how she had allowed Hans to catch her off-guard, and about the news being kept from her, but more than anything Elsa was angry with herself for giving her sister and guard captain a reason to keep it from her. She had given her sister the opportunity to tell her about Asia when Anna came to her office that day. when Anna didn't, she decided that it would be best to wait until after the festival to address the issue. Her sister had worked hard putting everything together and she didn't want to ruin the day for her by having such a serious issue color their interactions with one another.

She also hadn't been lying when she told Anna that she hadn't expected so many countries to be willing to send representatives so soon after the Queen's Winter. Not only would they be returning, but there were many representatives who hadn't attended her coronation but wished to take this opportunity to negotiate with the previously closed-off Arendelle.

The day of the festival, she had Kai deliver the official decree to cut off all ties with Weselton, though her council had been split on supporting her decision. Some members felt it was a decision fueled by emotions – though they didn't not say so directly – and those who supported her did so with varying levels. Regardless of their stance, it was done, and the order left a substantial trading void, as Weselton really had been their closest and largest trading partner. The outstanding contracts with the duchy would be honored in both export and import, but when those contracts where completed, there had to be a new one to fill the vacancy. The responsibility to fill that void with new trade agreements fell to Elsa, and she needed to do so in the days following the festival. Failure to do so would result in backlash from her people, and could potently cause lasting damage to the economy. So, she approached each meeting like her kingdom's very survival depended on the outcome of every negotiation. She had already caused her kingdom enough damage; her reign would not survive another misstep.

She could have told her sister how important these meetings were, her fears over what could happen if she failed, but instead she handled it like she had handled things her whole life, by pushing everyone away and going at it alone.

"Your Majesty?"

Elsa lifted her head, and Kai was quick to bow as he realized he'd unintentionally imposed on a private moment with her thoughts. She pushed out of her chair and began to gather the papers she intended to go over before bed, organizing them into a neat pile and sliding them into a leather-bound binder. She crossed her arms, holding the documents close to her chest as she exited her office.

"Were you able to accomplish everything you needed to, ma'am?" Kai asked, falling into step beside her.

"I believe so," she said, "but I'll be glad when this week is finally over."

He offered her a reassuring smile. "You're almost there, ma'am."

Elsa returned the smile, albeit tiredly. She and Kai had worked together closely since the day her parents set sail, and there were few people, including Anna, who knew and understood her as well as he did. She was grateful for his comforting and unwavering presence throughout the years.

As they walked, Kai went over her schedule for the following day, as was the nightly routine. When Elsa was ready to retire, they discussed what was scheduled for the next day, what still needed to be completed that night, and what tasks could be put off until tomorrow, as well as any important events that were coming up. As she half-listened to what he was saying, Elsa allowed her mind to wander.

The negotiations – the hardest part of her week – were completed, and the only thing left was to have the crown's lawyers draw up the official contracts. Then Elsa would sign them, host a small closing ball, and finally see the various representatives off. She was not looking forward to the ball, but it was a necessary evil, and she knew at least that Anna would enjoy herself.

 _Anna._ A stabbing wave of guilt cut through her. After what happened in the garden today, Elsa knew she was going to have to talk to her sister, and sooner rather than later. The pair continued to her private office, where she settled the papers onto her desk, debating holding off on talking with Anna until after the closing ball. It wasn't that Elsa didn't want to talk to her sister, just that it had been a very trying week. While she was relieved that she had been able to fill the trade vacuum left behind by Weselton, she was still worn out from it all, and needed time to recharge and reinforce her walls before attempting what she knew would be an emotionally-charged conversation with her sister.

She pulled back the chair, preparing to sit, when something Kai said finally caught her attention. "I'm sorry, did you say Baron Øystein had requested a meeting?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Elsa frowned. "Didn't I just meet with him last month? About..." She searched her memory, and it took longer than she liked to find the answer. "The current marriage laws?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She sank into the chair, a fresh headache began to rise in her temple that had nothing to do with her previous injuries. "What does he wish to meet about."

Kai hesitated. "The marriage laws, ma'am."

Elsa looked up at her steward. "Well, he is a persistent one." She pressed her lips together. She had only had the displeasure of meeting with the Baron of Riser twice, but each meeting had felt like the ultimate test in her patience. The man was arrogant, and his attitude toward her bordered on disrespectful. "I feel as though making him an ambassador and shipping him off to Siberia would be frowned upon."

Kai offered no response other than an encouraging smirk. She knew he had no love for the man either.

She sighed deeply as she pulled her copy of her schedule from her desk and flipped through the pages. "I suppose the day after tomorrow is as good a day as any." The ball was set to be held on the same day, but that wouldn't take place until the evening, and the planning and set up required was minimal, something her sister was more than capable of taking care of.

"Very good, ma'am."

Elsa set the book aside. "I think that will be all, Kai."

"Your Majesty," he said pointedly, like there was something she was missing.

She lifted her chin, but he was looking elsewhere. Elsa followed his gaze to the figure standing in the threshold between her private office and bedroom, and her heart sank. "Anna."


	15. Lost in You

_**Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions, and it never matters.** _

_**In the end, you are always alone in your actions.** _

**-Hawke**

* * *

**28 September 1843**

Anna paced in her sister's bedroom, waiting for Elsa to retire for the night and working herself up for the conversation she knew needed to take place. Their painfully brief exchange earlier in the garden had only served to ramp up her worry for Elsa, who not only knew about Asia's death, but clearly had known since before the festival. Anna assumed she found out the same day they spoke in her sister's office, the day Elsa pointedly asked if there was anything Anna wanted to tell her. She had known then that something was wrong, she just hadn't known _what._ Now, with guilt sitting her chest like a rock, she wished she had pressed her sister more.

She came to an abrupt stop in the center of the dark room, contemplating whether this was really the best idea. Winter powers notwithstanding, her sister didn't tend to respond well to being backed into a corner, or ambushed. At the same time, Anna knew that they couldn't go on _not_ talking about this. Olaf said that Elsa didn't think Anna trusted her, and that couldn't be further from the truth. She had only been trying to protect her sister and was going to make sure there was no confusion on the subject after this night. She had breached more than a threshold by coming here; she had stepped over a barrier.

She looked toward the clock on the mantle above the fireplace and decided Elsa should be heading to bed in about twenty minutes. If Elsa deviated from her schedule and decided to work late – which she often did – she usually brought the paperwork to her private study so the castle staff could retire for the night at a reasonable hour.

Anna had no problem waiting a little longer. She glanced around the room, realizing with a start that this was the first time she'd been in her sister's room without Elsa there. Her sister had moved into the Royal Suite from her old bedroom at the beginning of the month, and the pair often shared dessert and hot chocolate in front of the fire, and Anna had stayed over occasionally when relocating to her own quarters seemed too much work at the late hour. Anna had never been presented with the opportunity to _really_ look around the room that was purely Elsa. Not Queen Elsa, but simply her older sister.

Elsa, on the other hand, had had plenty of opportunities to explore Anna's room, when she was the one to sleep over. Elsa was almost always the first one up, sometimes by hours, and on more than one occasion, Anna had awakened to find her sister had already slipped out to start the day, but not before tidying her room to a frustratingly spotless state. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the thought, it was just that there was a sort of organization in the mess that made sense to Anna. It drove her sister crazy, but Anna knew exactly where to find what she was looking for when her belongings were spread across her room.

Anna bit her lip, knowing that she shouldn't do what she was thinking about doing. She really, _really_ shouldn't. Her sister was a very private person, but that wasn't something that should extend to Anna, her little sister. She nodded to herself, folding her hands behind her back as she resumed walking around the room. Besides, Elsa couldn't get mad if Anna didn't actually touch anything. Right? After she made a loop around the room, however, Anna was left with nothing but a frown. Elsa's room contained little in the way of décor, and the shelves held only books of varying topics, a model ship that had belonged to their father, and other random items that Anna was pretty sure had once been their parents. Surely, her sister had some other interests, or some sort of hobby other than reading.

Before she could make a second circuit and give the room a closer look, the door to the adjoining study opened. _Of course,_ Anna thought, rolling her eyes, though good-naturedly _._ She had already suspected Elsa would go to her study first. She moved toward the open doorway that connected the rooms, only to stop when she heard Kai's voice. Though her sister's response was too quiet to make out, Anna could tell the two were going over the schedule for the next day. Unsurprisingly, it sounded like the day was going to be just as packed as every day so far this week. She stepped close to the door and leaned against the frame, but stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt her sister while she was working.

Anna enjoyed watching her sister work, amazed, even mesmerized by how seamlessly Elsa shifted between the different roles she had to play, from diplomat to advisor to negotiator. How she could be stern and unyielding one moment, then warm and welcoming. How she could move to friendly and comforting to commanding in the span of a blink. Whatever the situation required, her sister played her role in a way that looked as natural as breathing. Anna had never been able pull off such a quick personality change herself. No matter the situation, she was only just Anna, which was enough for her. Besides, she didn't really have to worry about being all those things that Elsa did. She could be polite when she needed to be and tactful if she _really_ tried, but mostly, she was free to just be herself. She didn't have to pretend to be anything else.

She looked back into the room filled with books and items that once belonged to their parents and had to wonder how much of her sister she really saw on a daily basis, and how much was just another mask. Sure, Anna had learned little things about Elsa over the past two months, that her sister's favorite color was surprisingly purple, that she preferred a simple cup of coffee for breakfast, that she loved chocolate though salted caramels were her favorite, and she had a weak spot for any dessert that involved fresh fruit.

There were other things Anna caught onto over time. Tics and habits, like how Elsa could be moody first thing in the morning, how she wrapped her arms around herself when she was upset, or the way she would rub the tips of her fingers together when she had a headache to keep from pressing them against her forehead, because she didn't want anyone to know she was in pain. Those were the things that leaked out from behind the edges of Elsa's mask, things Anna wasn't even sure her sister was aware of doing.

The room's temperature dropped a notch, pulling Anna from her musings just in time to see her sister's face take on a sour look. "I feel as though making him an ambassador and shipping him off to Siberia would be frowned upon."

Anna pressed her lips together to keep from snorting. She wished she had been paying enough attention to know who it was risking life and limb irritating her sister. Elsa had a lot of patience; it was quite the feat for someone to wear it so thin.

Elsa pulled a notebook from her desk and flipped through the pages. "I suppose the day after tomorrow is as good a day as any."

"Very good, ma'am."

"I think that will be all, Kai."

The steward wrote something down in his own notebook and closed it. As he straightened and looked up, he opened his mouth to say something, but his gaze met Anna's, and a look of mild surprise crossed his face. Anna smiled, gave a small wave.

"Your Majesty."

Elsa looked up to Kai then followed his gaze to where Anna stood at the threshold.

Anna's smile fell as her sister's shoulders slumped and couldn't help the mild feeling of hurt that settled in her chest.

"Anna."

Anna stood silently on the threshold between the two rooms, trying not to fidget under her sister's quiet gaze while suddenly doubting the merits of her plan. She knew going in that Elsa wouldn't want to talk, but her reaction still took Anna by surprise.

After a tense moment of silence that felt far longer than it was, Elsa turned back to the steward. "You may go, Kai."

"Yes, ma'am." He hesitated, his gaze moving to Anna then back. "Before I do, is there anything you'd like sent up from the kitchen?"

Elsa rolled her lips against her teeth, and Anna knew her sister wasn't debating whether she wanted anything from the kitchen, but rather whether the following conversation was going to last long enough to merit something being sent up. Anna held her breath as she waited for her sister's answer.

"Some chamomile tea would be lovely. Thank you."

Kai bowed. "I will have it sent right up. Goodnight, ma'am." He dipped his head in Anna's direction on his way out of the room.

Anna released a silent breath, hoping the request meant her sister wasn't planning on immediately kicking her out of the room. Chamomile was good for both headaches and aiding in sleep, so Elsa's order also meant that she wasn't intending to stay up much longer. Anna folded her hands behind her back as she stepped into the room, stopping in front of the fireplace, keeping some distance from her sister's desk.

"Anna," Elsa said after a long moment. Her tone was soft and weary but otherwise neutral, giving no real indication of her current mood. Elsa dropped her gaze, letting it land on a fountain pen that sat in its holder just to her right. It was another one of those subtle tells Anna had picked up on over the past few months. Elsa didn't use that pen; Anna had never even seen her sister touch it. It had belonged to their father. He had placed it there before leaving the room for what no one knew would be the last time. Everything else in the room had been packed up to be put in storage or moved to another place in the castle, replaced with the things the new monarch would need. But the pen remained, untouched, with long-dried ink stains and smudges.

Anna had noticed her sister looking at the pen on a few occasions, almost like she was trying to draw comfort from its presence, or perhaps longing to seek the advice of a father and King who could no longer answer. Anna had always been curious about it, about why her sister hung onto the pen, something which seemed so insignificant when compared to the full scope of items left behind by their parents, things with far more sentimental value. She thought about asking; not tonight, but sometime soon. Her sister rarely did anything without reason.

Elsa took a deep breath and reached for her binder. She flipped it open, keeping her gaze pinned on the documents in front of her as she finally spoke. "Anna, I have a lot to work to do."

Anna's heart sank, but she wasn't ready to give up. She knew Asia's death had been a devastating blow to her sister, and when topped with the thought that her own little sister didn't trust her, it was enough to make anyone want to curl into a ball and push the world away. She felt torn, not wanting to press her sister when Elsa clearly didn't want to talk but also knowing that she couldn't allow something this big to sit between them. It would only serve to push them further apart, and they had gone through too much already to let that happen. Anna was just going to have to handle the situation with all the grace and tact that her mother had been convinced she had deep in her bones. "Elsa," she said, stepping closer to the desk, "you should've told me you knew about Asia."

Elsa's gaze snapped up, icy blue eyes meeting her own, and Anna realized too late her poor choice of wording. Well, she had never been good at grace, or tact, and there was no reason for that to change now. It only took one look at Elsa's face for Anna to understand that she was not talking to her sister right now, but the Queen.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" she asked, her frown deepening. "Or would you like to rephrase it first?"

Anna winced and considered taking her sister up on her offer, but ultimately decided to plow forward. "I know you're mad at me—"

"I already told you, I'm not upset with you."

"You sound pretty angry for someone who isn't upset."

"Anna." Elsa took a deep breath and released it slowly, rolling her own pen between her fingertips. "I'm not upset with you, I'm just tired. I have a lot on my mind, and there is a lot that still needs to be done before the end of the week."

"Elsa," Anna tried again, clenching her hands in front of her, "we need to talk about this."

Elsa shook her head, her fingers tightening around the barrel of her pen. "No, _you_ need to talk about this. _I_ need to work."

Every once in a while, Anna somehow managed to forget how impressively stubborn her older sister could be. She took a deep breath in preparation to press further, encouraged by the lack of snow or ice around Elsa's desk. "Olaf said you think I don't trust you."

"And you had good reason not to," Elsa answered evenly, the inflection of her voice giving nothing away. "I had an injury that was causing both my magic and emotions to become unstable. I understand the choice you made, and why you made it."

Anna pressed her lips in a thin line, searching her sister's face for the smallest crack in her mask, a seam between Queen and sister, an opening she could break through. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with the calm, diplomatic Queen of Arendelle, but with the sister that she knew feared her own power, the one who was hurt by the thought that her younger sister didn't trust her. She would much rather Elsa be angry with her, even yell at her, than continue with this frustratingly passive tone she was hiding behind.

She fidgeted, wishing for a chair so she could sit and face her sister, so she could meet Elsa's gaze without having to bend down. But this room wasn't meant for visitors, just Elsa. "It wasn't about your powers or not trusting you. I trust you more than anyone."

Elsa turned the pen slowly in her between her fingers, looking down at it with deliberate focus. "You didn't tell me because you were afraid of how I'd respond. That I would become . . . overwhelmed, correct?"

Technically, her sister was right. Anna had been worried Elsa would take the news hard, that with everything else she had been dealing with at the time, it would become too much, but the way Elsa said it- "You make it sound so . . . cold."

"Well, I am the Snow Queen. It goes with the territory, I suppose."

It was phrased almost like a joke, but Anna could feel there was more behind it. She had seen something flash across her sister's face, too fast for her to properly identify. But the fact it had been there at all was enough to encourage her to push forward. She took a deep breath, hoping her next course of action didn't end poorly. Anna walked up to the desk and slapped Elsa's leather binder, filled with important, time-sensitive documents, closed. She grabbed it up from the desktop, swiftly stepping away.

"Anna!" Elsa dropped her pen and jumped to her feet. "There is a week's worth of trade negotiations in that binder, if you mess them up, I swear to everything that I will make sure you never see a drop of chocolate again."

 _There_ was the sister Anna had been looking for. It was just a hint, but enough for her to gain the foothold she needed. "Only if you stop," she said, holding the binder out of Elsa's reach.

Her sister's wide gaze was fixed on the binder. "Stop what?"

"Acting like you don't care."

"Obviously I care, Anna. Don't be ridiculous." Elsa stood still behind her desk, carefully watching her sister. "Now, can I please have my binder back?" She held out her hand.

Anna rotated her body, moving the binder farther away from her sister's reach. "Not until you talk about it, Elsa. You can't pretend that what happened didn't affect you."

Elsa dropped her hand to the desktop, her fingers rolling into a tight first as frost creeped across the surface. "Of course, it affects me!" she shouted. "It affects everything I do. I killed someone, Anna! I allowed my control to slip. I panicked and someone died. Two people, in fact. You and Asia both died because of me, because of what I am."

One of the things Anna had learned early on was that Elsa didn't mince her words, she didn't always say what she meant and sometimes there was a deeper meaning hidden under seemingly innocent words, but she always _meant_ what she said, even when upset or angry. " _What_ you are?" she asked.

Elsa went completely still, her eyes widening. As Anna watched, her sister's mask cracked completely, leaving something painfully raw showing underneath. "We are not having this conversation," she said as the room's temperature plummeted. "I have a lot of work to get done before tomorrow morning. Can I _please_ have my binder back?"

"Oh, no," Anna said. "We are definitely having this conversation."

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her hands around her middle, drawing herself in, protecting herself. "Anna," she said, distress etching its way into her voice as she begged with a single word not to do this, not to push her into a conversation she desperately didn't want to have.

Anna almost offered her sister an out, a large part of her wanting to believe that the past week's workload, the accumulating stress that had left her sister so busy they hardly even saw each other in passing was only temporary, something that would end with the closing ball on Saturday. She wanted to believe that everything would go back to the way it was just a few days ago. But she couldn't take that risk, couldn't allow her sister to bear this weight by herself any longer than she already had.

"Elsa, what happened was an accident."

A pained expression took over Elsa's features, her gaze still not meeting Anna's. "My magic _killed_ someone."

"Someone already on their deathbed," Anna insisted weakly as she placed the binder on the desktop between them, though Elsa made no move to touch it.

Elsa's head snapped up, surprise flitting across her face, and Anna realized her sister hadn't known that part. Once more, she had to wonder who exactly told Elsa about the woman's death. Before she could say anything, the vulnerable look on her sister's face hardened.

"You think that makes it any better?" she asked. "That because she may have already been dying, it somehow absolves me of my sins?" Elsa tightened her arms around herself, her fingers digging into her sides. "Do you know what I would give for five more minutes with mother or father? I took that from her, from her family."

Anna pressed her lips together, quickly stepping around the desk and grabbing her sister's upper arms. "Elsa—"

"Don't." Her sister stepped back, roughly pulling away from Anna's reach and attempt at comfort. She squeezed her eyes shut; her head tucked down taking deliberate breaths as she worked to collect herself. Anna felt her heart break for her sister. "You can't make this better, Anna," Elsa said in a tight voice, cracking against the weight of narrowly controlled emotions. " _Talking_ isn't going to make everything okay again." She took another step back, looking up at Anna with glassy eyes, pressing a hand against her chest. "My magic is dangerous. _I'm_ dangerous—"

"You are not dangerous, Elsa," Anna interrupted, hating that her sister had these thoughts. She stepped closer, but Elsa only met it with a matching step back. Anna's chest tightened as tears welled in her own eyes. Suddenly, it felt like that day in the ice palace all over again, like all the progress they had made over the last few months was being undone in this single moment.

Elsa shook her head. "I allowed my control to slip, Anna. One misstep and I put everyone in danger. I nearly killed the very people I swore to protect, Arendelle is still at risk of famine this winter, and the entire kingdom was at risk of an economic depression. That was all from just one moment of weakness. The fact that no one else died is a miracle. Things could have ended so much worse than what they did."

"But they didn't."

"But they could have. If events hadn't played out exactly as they did . . ." Elsa placed a hand over her mouth, but Anna heard a muffled sob.

She wanted desperately to comfort her sister, to put a stop to the conversation. She was terrified that her sister was going to break into tiny pieces, and she wouldn't know how to put her back together again. Anna reached out toward her sister but pulled her hand back as Elsa shied away, drawing into herself once more. "You can't think like that."

"No," Elsa said, her face hardening into a watery-eyed look of broken determination. "I can't. Which is why I need to work. So, I don't think about the damage I caused my people, or my family. Because if I do, I will never be able to . . . I _need_ to work."

"Elsa . . ." But Anna didn't know what to say.

A knock on the door broke through the silent tension sitting between them in the room. "Come in," Elsa said in a forcibly steady voice.

The door opened and a maid entered with a tray containing a teapot, two cups, and light pastries. She dipped her head to each of them in turn. "Your Majesty, Your Highness," she greeted, then placed the tray on a small table next to the desk.

"Thank you," Elsa said. The only evidence of their emotionally charged conversation were her misty eyes, and as upset as Anna herself was, she was once more impressed and concerned by the swift, seamless shift in persona her sister was capable of.

"Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

"No, thank you," Elsa replied evenly. "Goodnight."

The maid bowed again as she bid them each goodnight. Elsa kept her gaze pinned on the door until it closed completely before letting her eyes slide shut.

They stood once more in silence, her sister was right; there was nothing Anna could do to fix this, and her attempt to try had been born of nothing more than a desire to make everything better for her own sake. She struggled to figure out how to breach this gap that now stretched painfully between them, but she didn't know where to start.

* * *

**29 September 1843**

Kristoff crossed the castle's courtyard in the direction of the stables, where Sven had been living when they weren't in the mountains harvesting ice. It still felt weird to be able to come and go about the castle freely. Every time he passed a guard or servant, Kristoff had to fight the urge to find somewhere to hide, his instincts telling him they were going to stop him or altogether remove him from the castle grounds. He didn't belong here, with this crowd. He was a nobody from nowhere, a nameless ice harvester. It was just him and Sven, like it had always been. They never needed anything else.

At least, that's what he had thought before he met Anna. She had entered his life like a burst of warm sunlight on a cool spring day, a guiding light in a world Kristoff hadn't even realized was dark until he saw her smile. He tried to tell her once, but somehow ended up calling her a tree instead. Anna had just chuckled and took him by the hand, led him to the gardens and told him about the large tree she used to picnic under with her parents and sister.

He wasn't ready to say he was in love; they had both been hurt too much in the past to trust such a dangerous feeling so early, but Anna had awakened something in him that he hadn't known was missing. Something that made Kristoff feel stronger, and braver, like there was nothing he couldn't do with her at his side. Including initiating a heart attack-inducing conversation with the woman who was not only Anna's older sister, but the Queen of Arendelle, and was also capable of turning him into a frosty garden ornament. Honestly, he wasn't sure which of those was more terrifying. Standing in that study, he had allowed his mouth to move faster than his brain, positive that every ensuing word was increasing the chances of dying a very sudden, very cold death. When Elsa invited him to dinner with her and Anna, he'd been beyond shocked, barely managing to offer a half-intelligent response without stuttering.

Kristoff rubbed his hand against the back of his neck as he turned into Sven's stable, stopping suddenly when he saw someone else was already inside, feeding the reindeer carrots. "Anna." A smile stretched across his face as he moved closer, surprised to see her here. She'd been so busy in the days leading up to the festival they had hardly been able to spend time together, and he knew there was supposed to be some big ball taking place the next day. "I thought you'd be busy all day today preparing for that ball thing tomorrow." _Great, now she thinks you don't want her here,_ he berated stepped forward, patting the air between them. "I mean, not that you should be. I'm sure you have it all taken care of, and I'm glad you're here. Not that I had anything planned, I'm just always happy to see you." _Smooth._

Anna patted Sven on the nose as she turned, and Kristoff caught a flash of an out-of-place emotion flutter across her face, something sadder than he was used to seeing from the normally cheerful girl. "Everything is ready to go for the ball. All that's left is Elsa's approval on some things, and she'll be with the crown's lawyers all day drawing up contracts and getting them signed." She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

Kristoff cringed. "That sounds like some form a cruel punishment."

"Which is why she needs to live to a ripe old age, so I never have to be Queen," Anna agreed with a shiver. A weighted silence filled the stables and she shifted, rubbing her arm self-consciously.

"Is everything okay?" Kristoff asked, brows drawn together in concern as he stepped closer, laying his hands on her upper arms.

She dropped her gaze to the ground between them. "I talked to Elsa last night, about Asia."

"Oh." He wanted to support Anna but wasn't sure what else to say. From what he could tell, the conversation obviously hadn't gone well. "You, uh, want to talk about it?"

Anna chewed on her lower lip, nodded.

Kristoff shifted his hand to her shoulder and led her to a nearby stack of hay bales, where Anna stiffly sat. He lowered himself to the neighboring bale and offered her an encouraging smile, then listened quietly as the floodgates opened and she told him everything that had happened with her sister the night before. When she finally stopped talking, he put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him.

"I don't know how to fix it," Anna admitted after a few silent moments. Tears welled in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

"Maybe you can't fix it," he finally said, knowing full well that Anna would be hurt by the thought.

Her gaze snapped up, her mouth falling open. "What?"

"I don't know much about your sister, but the little I do know—" _she froze her kingdom, then Anna's heart; she kicked us out when Anna was trying to help; she hurt her sister; she loves her sister deeply; she has eyes that are as kind and forgiving as they are icy and dangerous_ "—well, I have to say she seems like a very complicated person."

Anna snorted, a sad smile twisting her lips. "There's an understatement."

"What happened to Asia wouldn't be easy for anyone to handle, much less on the heels of everything else—" Kristoff hesitated and took a deep breath. He knew this was a touchy subject with Anna, but it needed to get out there, "—she did."

Anna pulled back, her gaze hardening. "Which was an accident."

"Is that how she sees it?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line and dropped her gaze to the ground. "No," Anna said, her shoulders slumping. "She blames herself for not being able to control her powers. Even though it's not her fault."

"I'm not sure that matters to her as much as it does to you," Kristoff said. "Your sister doesn't seem the type to forgive lightly, especially when the person she needs to forgive is herself." He wasn't sure how true that was, and he still hadn't worked out exactly how he felt about the Queen after everything that had happened. But there was something about the way Elsa had looked at him during their meeting, something in her piercing gaze that had been achingly familiar, something he knew all too well, himself. The kind of something that leads one to build a snowman who longs for summer. "This might be something you just have to wait for her to work through on her own."

Anna frowned deeply, her shoulders slumping. "I'd feel better about that if her way of 'working through it' didn't involve exhausting amounts of actual work, and long hours."

"Good things come to those who wait?" Kristoff offered.

Anna propped an elbow on her knee and dropped her chin into her palm with a groan. "I hate waiting."

He couldn't help but grin. "How about some hot chocolate while you do?"

Anna rotated her head toward him. A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, lighting up her eyes.


	16. Whistle in the Dark

_**Old ways won't open new doors** _

* * *

**07 October 1843**

Elsa glanced up toward the window, watching the bright midday sun make its way slowly across the sky, and pressed her lips into a tight line. She returned her attention to the document sitting on her desk, only to catch herself reading over the same sentence for the sixth time in the last twenty minutes. She sighed heavily and leaned forward over the desktop, pressing her fingertips against the bridge of her nose. A headache developing behind her eyes due to stress and the lack of sleep from the night before.

"I'm sure the princess just lost track of time."

Kai's voice broke through Elsa's worrying. She glanced up sharply, surprised to find him standing inside the room. She hadn't even heard him come in, but there he was, just on the other side of the desk with a tray in his hands, laden with a steaming pot of tea and an assortment of snacks.

"Timekeeping was never her Highness's strongest suit," he said with a smile. "Often to the late King and Queen's dismay."

Elsa returned the smile as Kai settled the tray on a small table next to her desk. "Perhaps, but I had hoped Kristoff would practice a little more. . . awareness." Or at least a little more self-preservation, keeping in mind what might happen if he returned late with her little sister. Or worse.

She shut that line of thought down before it had a chance to take form; indulging in _what_ _ifs_ and _maybes_ would only drive her into further distraction. "Let me know the moment they are back," she said to Kai.

"Yes, ma'am." He bowed, then left the room without another word.

Alone again, Elsa kneaded her temple with her fingertips. It had been just over a week since Anna confronted her in her private study, and ever since that night their relationship had been . . . strained. Nothing overtly oblivious; she doubted anyone even noticed anything different between the two of them. But there were little things, small moments, that seemed to get caught somewhere between cordial and sisterly. Elsa was aware that this divide between them was her fault.

Anna had forced her to admit out loud certain things she had been avoiding, things she hadn't wanted to acknowledge to herself in the quiet moments of her own mind. Instead of coming to terms with what she had done in her own time, her sister had forced it out, in what became a raw and ugly mess between them. Elsa didn't know how to reconcile with what had happened that night, with what happened to Asia, or with freezing her own sister's heart. So, she did the only thing she knew how to, and threw herself into her work. Her schedule kept full from dawn until dusk, allowing Elsa to go on avoiding the issue.

She knew avoidance wasn't the right answer. She should talk to Anna and smooth things out so they could get back to being sisters again. But thirteen years of 'conceal, don't feel' didn't lend itself to open communication and or any proper emotional expression. So, when Anna came to her two days ago wanting to go on an overnight camping trip in the mountains with Kristoff, Elsa had a hard time saying no, despite her multiple reservations.

Of course, she had always had a hard time saying no to her little sister, and there was little doubt that would ever change. After several reassurances that nothing would happen on this trip that would make Gerda blush, and the condition they take Olaf along, Elsa had agreed to the two-day camping trip, with the stipulation of a strict return time. One which they were now—Elsa glanced back up out the window—almost a full day late to meet.

Elsa took a deep breath and reminded herself that Kristoff was an experienced mountaineer and Anna was perfectly safe with him.

"Your Majesty."

She jumped at the sudden voice, a thin layer of frost spreading across her desktop. Kai stood in the doorway, looking apologetic. Elsa raised her eyebrows as she considered putting a bell on the man.

"Princess Anna and Kristoff have returned."

Elsa was out of her seat before he finished the sentence, though she forced herself to walk at a reasonable pace once she was out of the room. Anna was home, and that meant everything was okay. They were only a day late, and she was sure they had a good reason.

At least, for Kristoff's sake, she hoped they did.

* * *

"I am a dead man, aren't I?"

Anna rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "She's not going to kill, maim, freeze, or otherwise hurt you." She tilted her chin thoughtfully. "I think."

She watched as Kristoff's face fell and he tightened his grip on Sven's reins. The wagon bounced along the dirt road that led back to Arendelle.

"You realize that's not at all comforting." Kristoff sighed heavily. "I'm gonna have to move, change my name." He turned to Anna. "Do you think Minunata could use an ice harvester?"

Anna chuckled. "Considering that they're an island kingdom in the south, I'm not sure they have any ice to harvest."

"Oh." Kristoff turned back toward the road, guiding Sven over the rocky terrain that led into town.

Arendelle's castle loomed in the distance, not too far away, and he shifted in his seat again as they drew ever closer to home. Anna couldn't help but take some pity on the man. He looked genuinely worried over what Elsa's response was going to be to them arriving so much later than what they'd all agreed upon. Sometimes, she had to remind herself that where she saw a protective older sister, others only saw the Queen, a woman they knew next to nothing about who possessed ice powers capable of locking down a kingdom.

She could understand how that would make some nervous, even scared, to disappoint her, and wondered if her sister knew just how much intimidating she could be. If Elsa did know, then Anna wondered how that made her feel. She knew her older sister to be kind and generous, her fear of accidently hurting someone outshined only by her drive to protect and help everyone she could. It was part of what made her a great Queen, along with serving as the primary drive behind long days and busy schedules.

Anna shook away the thoughts, bringing herself back to the matter at hand, hoping she could reassure Kristoff. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "Elsa isn't going to murder you."

"I dunno," Olaf blurted, popping his head up over the back of the wagon. "She was _pretty_ specific on the whole 'be back on time and don't let anything happen to Anna' thing."

"Olaf!" Anna turned to shush the snowman, but he fixed his attention on Kristoff.

"And you _did_ drop her sister off a mountain," Olaf continued.

Kristoff paled. "I didn't—"

"And she got injured. Last time Anna got hurt, Elsa locked herself away from everyone for thirteen years." Olaf tapped a little twiggy hand against his mouth and looked toward Anna. "Do you think Elsa will lock Kristoff in a room for thirteen years?"

Kristoff swallowed audibly. "I'm so dead."

"Olaf," Anna said firmly, rotating in her seat, careful not to bump her injured ankle. "You're not helping."

"If Elsa turns Kristoff into a frozen statue, can I have his room?" Olaf asked.

Anna let out an exasperated huff. "He doesn't have a room, and no, you may not." She shook her head. "Olaf," she said pointedly, waiting until she was sure she had his attention. She had every intention of changing the subject to something light, but as they drew nearer to the open gates to the castle, another thought occurred to her. "Do you remember when you told us last week that Elsa had been sad?"

Olaf nodded. "Uh-huh."

"You don't happen to know what sort of mood she's in right now, do you?" Inevitably, they would have to face Elsa's wrath—or worse, her disappointment—for being so late. Not to mention the fact Anna had gotten hurt on a trip they had assured her was perfectly safe. But knowing her sister's mood going in would be helpful. Kristoff perked up a bit at her question, also turning toward the snowman.

Olaf's mouth snapped shut. "Mmm. . ." He moved his arms back and forth, looking conflicted.

Anna tilted her head. "What's wrong?"

He released a weighted huff of air. "Elsa said I'm not allowed to tell people what she's feeling anymore. She said they can't use me as a 'cheat sheet for the Queen'."

Kristoff sighed, his shoulders slumping like a man preparing for his own execution, and Anna had to resist the urge to laugh at his dramatics.

Anna twisted her lips. She was sure she could convince Olaf to tell her, but didn't want to put the little snowman in an uncomfortable position of having to choose between the sisters. Or perhaps worse, choosing between listening to her over his creator. Not for something this small. Besides, her sister wasn't one to overreact, usually. If you didn't count the time that she technically caused an eternal winter over losing a glove. But that was just one time, and there had been a lot of extra factors. This was all assuming her sister even found out about this rather minor mishap. Elsa had been working almost non-stop for the last week, and it was possible they could get by with her being none the wiser.

Of course, that fledgling hope for skating by unnoticed was dashed the moment they crossed the gate into the courtyard and found Elsa waiting for them, her face set in a neutral expression that gave away nothing and everything at the same time. It told Anna that her sister was not happy, but nothing more than that.

Kristoff guided the wagon to the left side of the courtyard, next to the stables. As they slowed to a stop, he cast one last nervous glance at Anna.

"It'll be fine," she said. "You're overthinking this."

Kristoff looked hopeful as he slid out of the wagon and got to work unhitching Sven.

At this point, there would be no way to hide her twisted ankle; they would have to tell Elsa about it. Anna didn't want to lie or even fudge the truth, but hoped to downplay the events surrounding the injury. There was no need to stress out the already overworked Queen if they didn't need to.

"Elsa!" Olaf bounded out of the wagon, flailing his arms excited as he ran up to her.

Anna turned to jump out of the wagon and run after him but stopped herself just in time, knowing her ankle wouldn't take that very well. _Maybe he won't say anything._ Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was nothing more than wishful thinking.

Elsa knelt in front of the snowman. "Olaf," she greeted, a smile spreading across her face. "How was the trip?"

 _Crap_. Anna knew what her sister was doing. Elsa knew Olaf would give a full, unfiltered account of what had transpired. Maybe it was for the best, she decided. Just get it over with, like ripping off a bandage.

"We had so much fun!" Olaf exclaimed, waving his arms in the air. "Kristoff showed us the lake he gets ice from, and then we went to Oaken's trading post, and then we saw the northern lights from a really high mountain, and then Kristoff showed us how to climb up a mountain, and then Anna fell off a cliff, and then one of the wagon's wheels broke, but it was okay because Kristoff knew how to fix it."

Anna bit her bottom lip as she watched a variety of emotions cross her sister's face in rapid succession. Elsa's eyes flicked up to Anna and she could tell she was both searching for any injury and reassuring herself her sister was there and in one piece.

"Anna fell off a cliff and broke a wagon wheel?" she asked, her gaze returning to Olaf.

"No," Olaf said with a chuckle. "The wagon wheel broke when it ran over a metal thing with teeth that snapped up really fast." He clapped his hands together with a sharp _whap_.

"And Anna falling?"

"Oh! Kristoff was teaching us how to climb up a cliff face with just a rope and ice axe."

"He was?" Elsa was sounding far less enthusiastic than her snowman.

"Yeah, they got really high too, before Anna slipped and fell."

Elsa's eyes went impossibly wide, her gaze snapping back up to Anna like she was reassuring herself once more that her sister was in fact still alive.

Olaf continued like he didn't notice danger was looming, for at least one of them. "Luckily there was a gigantic pile of snow for her to land in or else—"

"Hey, Olaf!" Anna called, before the snowman inadvertently caused the next eternal winter. "Can you get some carrots for Sven? I'm sure he's starving after the trip from the mountains."

The reindeer's head shot up at the mention of carrots. He started bouncing from hoof to hoof as Kristoff attempted to detach him from the cart. "Whoa, easy, Sven, let me get you unharnessed first."

Elsa stepped back from Olaf, letting him bound toward the kitchens and the coveted vegetable. Anna braced herself as Elsa quickly covered the space left between them. Before she had a chance to say anything, her sister pulled her into a tight hug.

It only lasted a moment before Elsa stepped back and wrapped her hands wrapping Anna's, her face quickly growing stormy. "Climbing up a cliff? Anna, what were you thinking?"

"It was a small cliff," she said.

"It was a cliff."

"Really, Elsa, I was perfectly safe."

"Until you fell?"

"Like five feet," Anna protested. "And into a pile of snow."

Elsa rubbed her thumbs over the back of Anna's palms. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Are you okay?"

Anna nodded. "I twisted my ankle a little getting back up, that's all."

"Anna," her sister said warningly.

"Really, that's it."

Elsa released her hands and took a step back, carefully looking for any sign or hint of hidden injury, then asked, "Let me see it?"

Anna turned on the wagon's bench seat, so her legs were dangling off the side. She shifted her skirt to the side and pulled up her left pant leg, wincing as the motion jarred her ankle.

Her sister hissed sympathetically. "It looks swollen." She knelt in front of Anna and wrapped her hands around the hurt ankle.

Anna sighed contently as the glorious cold from her sister's hands seeped into the hot, puffy joint.

Elsa looked up. "Any better?"

"Mmm," she affirmed. "Don't ever stop."

A light chuckle rolled off Elsa's lips. After a few more minutes, just before the cold grew uncomfortable, she pulled her hands away. "I think you should have Malthe look at your ankle," she said as she stood.

"Aw, come on, Elsa." Anna wriggled on the seat, readjusting her pant leg and skirt. "It's really not that bad."

"That was not a request."

Anna's shoulders slumped, but she knew better than to argue. She and Kristoff had been a day late returning, and she doubted her sister had slept well last night, worrying about where they were. All things considered, Anna supposed she should be thankful Elsa hadn't sent the guards out to find them.

"Kristoff." Elsa said, looking across the wagon to where the man in question stood with Sven between them.

His head snapped up. "Uh, yes, Your Majesty," he said, shifting nervously.

It only lasted a fraction of a second, but Anna was sure she saw the hint of a satisfied smile pull at the corner of Elsa's lips. Suddenly, she felt bad for Kristoff, but knew one thing was certain—they would never be late again.

"Please help Anna to her room so the physician can look at her ankle," Elsa said.

"Really?" A look of confusion and surprise settled on his face. Elsa merely raised her eyebrows, and Kristoff jumped into action. "Right, yes. Of course," he rambled, moving to the other side of the cart.

Elsa stepped back, giving enough room for him to move beside Anna. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder as he shifted her up onto his back.

"You don't have to carry me," Anna muttered as they started the trek to the castle.

"It's my fault you got hurt," Kristoff said, "and if this is all I have to do to keep your sister from turning me into a frozen statue, then I count myself beyond lucky." He offered her a smile over his shoulder.

He had a point. Anna had expected Elsa to be much more upset with them, but she didn't even so much as lecture her. Kristoff, she had all but ignored, except for this one request. Anna didn't know what to make of it, because in Elsa's eyes, they had clearly committed two major crimes. First, they'd been late; and not a little late, but by almost an entire day. Elsa was a stickler for punctuality, to the point you could set your watch by her sister's movements.

The second had been engaging in a dangerous activity, one which had resulted in her being hurt. Though Anna wouldn't admit it out loud, she was a little surprised, and maybe even hurt, at her sister's lack of reaction. But Elsa kept an impressively tight hold on her emotions, especially when staff members and visitors could see and hear. It was behind closed doors that you were more likely to see the depth of what she was feeling. Over the last few months, Anna had learned that it wasn't her sister's anger that hurt the most, it was the silent look of disappointment that cut deeply into any unfortunate soul who found themselves on the receiving end. That look stung more than anything, and Anna was happy to have so far only witnessed its marks on others rather than experience it firsthand.

Then again, this was the first time Anna had gotten hurt since they'd been reunited, so there wasn't a lot of experience in the past to draw from. Maybe she and Kristoff had both simply overstressed about what they thought Elsa's reaction would be.

"Kristoff," Elsa called, her voice as clear as a crystal as it cut through the otherwise quiet courtyard.

He stopped in his tracks, one foot on the first step into the castle. Slowly, he turned back to face the Queen.

"Come to my office when you're done."

 _There it is,_ Anna thought. She knew that tone and exactly what it meant. She had heard it from their mother hundreds of times growing up, though she somehow doubted Elsa was going to send Kristoff to bed without dessert.


	17. Interlude

**The most reliable way to predict the future is to create it.**

**-Someone smarter than me**

* * *

**07 October 1843**

Elsa pursed her lips as she stared down at the half-completed document on her desktop. Anna was safely back in the castle—a little worse for wear, but ultimately okay. She pressed her fingertips against the bridge of her nose, struggling to keep her mind from wandering back to all the worst-case scenarios that might have happened, the endless possibilities of things that could have gone too easily wrong.

 _Mountain climbing,_ she mused with a huff, suddenly wondering how many of her father's grey hairs were caused by the antics of her fearless sister. And immediately on the heels of that thought, how much of her own hair would go prematurely grey because of Anna. Elsa dropped her hand to the desk and shook her head, turning her attention back to the parchment. She really needed to get this drafted today; she was already a day behind.

"Your Majesty?"

Elsa lifted her gaze to where Kai was standing just inside the doorway. "Yes?"

"Mr. Bjorgmen says you wished to speak to him."

She nodded and shifted the document to the side. She would have to finish it later, which was just as well. Elsa had a feeling that tonight was going to be a late night anyway. "Send him in."

Kai dipped his chin and turned back to the hallway, gesturing for someone to enter. As Kristoff walked by the steward, looking more than a little nervous, Elsa could swear she heard Kai whisper "good luck." She immediately dismissed it as her imagination. There was no reason for such a comment; she couldn't possibly be that intimidating. She was no different from anyone else in the kingdom.

Except for her ice powers.

And the thirteen years spent in isolation.

And, she supposed, that she was the Queen.

But other than that. . .

Elsa winced. Not for the first time, she had to wonder just how her people viewed her, whether they found her unapproachable or intimidating. She hoped not. She considered visiting the town more often, but her chest tightened uncomfortably from the thought alone. _One step at a time,_ she reminded herself.

Kristoff stopped in front of the desk. He seemed anxious, tugging at his collar. "Your Majesty," he greeted.

Elsa gestured to the chair across from her. "Sit down, Kristoff," she clipped in return, only to wince once more. Maybe she could ask Anna to show her how to be more . . . approachable.

Kristoff sat heavily and stiffly, clearing his throat. "I know you said make sure she's safe," he said, words coming out in a nervous rush. "Which she is. Safe, I mean, mostly. I mean, she's not in any danger. She wasn't, not rea—"

Elsa held up a hand, effectively putting an end to the man's ramble. She rolled her lips, attempting to hide her amusement, and took a deep breath. "Kristoff," she began, folding her hands on the desktop.

He mirrored her straight posture, the deep breath. "Yes?"

"Have you given any thought to the position of Ice Master and Deliver?" Elsa asked. More than a week had passed since she officially offered him the job. She hoped that was more than enough time to consider the post.

Kristoff's lips twitched. "Wait, you didn't ask me here to turn me into a frozen garden statue for letting Anna climb a mountain and get hurt?"

"Not _just_ to turn you into a frozen garden statue," she said, with all the seriousness she could muster.

Kristoff stared, not sure what he should say in response to that. He wasn't even sure he wanted to try.

Elsa found his hesitant silence amusing, considering this was the same man who, when they last spoke, told her she nor anyone else was worthy of Anna. Although, he had spent most of that conversation looking like he expected to be executed at any moment, kind of the way he looked now. She sighed and hurried to put the man out of his misery. "Let's be honest, Kristoff. No one _lets_ Anna do anything. She is adventurous, spirited, and stubborn, once she decides on something, rarely will she allow a minor detail such as gravity or self-preservation get in the way." She smiled. "Not that I would have her any other way."

Kristoff cracked a smile in return, shoulders sagging in relief as he nodded. "I was teaching her safety tips when we were up in the mountains. One thing led to another, and suddenly she was attempting to climb right up the side of a cliff."

"As I said." Elsa shook her head. "The only thing I ask of you is to keep in mind that . . . " She dropped her gaze to the desktop, rubbing the pad of her thumb over her fingers. "Is to keep in mind that our parents are gone. Our closest relatives live miles away across the sea, people we have never met before. Anna is _all_ I have. If something were to happen to her—" She abruptly stopped speaking, not even wanting to finish the thought.

Kristoff didn't want her to finish it either. He nodded solemnly. "I understand."

She took a deep breath, narrowing her gaze. "Not only that, but if something should happen to me," she said, slowly and with care, "she is all Arendelle has."

Kristoff tilted his head, his lips twisting into a tight line. "Are you worried something might happen to you?"

Elsa opened her mouth with every intention of reassuring him she was simply being overly cautious, but hesitated, suddenly feeling a need to talk to someone. She couldn't share her worries with her sister because it wasn't for her to worry about, and she didn't want to say anything to any of her advisors. At least, not until there was a concrete concern, as opposed to her own anxiety and paranoia. Kristoff, on the other hand, was an unbiased third party who didn't have any reason to react emotionally. Not like those closer to her might.

Elsa leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "Do you remember the closing ball last week? The man that approached Anna in the painting gallery?"

Kristoff screwed up his face, recalling the events of that night. He nodded slowly. "Tall, thin, creepy dude? Anna said they were discussing the Joan of Arc painting, but that some of the things he said seemed . . . I think she said they sounded almost like a threat."

Elsa raised her eyebrows. "I'm not surprised. He is the Marquês Sos Verena. Verena is a territory belonging to a country called Pruila, at least a week's travel to the south of us."

"And that's a problem?" Kristoff asked hesitantly. He had never heard of the Marques Sos Verena, or Pruila, but there must have been some reason Elsa was bringing him up.

"Most of those who visited last week were here with the purpose of opening or renewing trade contracts or alliances with Arendelle. The Marquês, however, did neither."

"That's quite a distance to travel to just attend a festival," Kristoff said. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Though I don't imagine many festivals involve a Queen with magical powers. Or anyone with real magic."

"No," Elsa said. "I imagine not."

"I'm guessing there is more to this? Something that has you worried?"

Elsa clenched her hands in her lap, taking another moment to consider the information that she was about to share and who she was sharing it with. Kristoff wasn't schooled in politics, and the world at large and the goings-on of other countries may not concern him, but from the few conversations she'd had with him, Elsa understood him to be much more perceptive than he initially appeared.

"Pruila is an isolated country," she said. "They mostly keep to themselves, but have a reputation for being very. . ." She cast around for the correct word. "Intolerant, to _things_ outside their beliefs. The Marquês Sos Verena, in particular, has led several investigations against his own people."

"Things?" Kristoff frowned. His eyes widened as he met Elsa's gaze. "Things like magic?"

Elsa dipped her chin.

"And when you say 'investigation' . . ."

"I mean investigations much like the one Joan of Arc went through, and they often end the same way."

Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck, processing the information. "You think this guy might try something like that with you?"

"I don't know," Elsa said, shaking her head. "As far as I'm aware, we have never had any dealings with Pruila. For them to travel this far north and then _only_ speak to Anna at the ball . . . I wasn't even aware he had been here until Anna mentioned it to me later than night."

"I can understand why you'd be concerned." He blew out a breath, tapped his fingers against his thigh. "So, what happens now?"

"Now, we hope their interest in Arendelle goes no further than this one visit. Other than that, there isn't much we can do." Elsa dropped her gaze, twisting her hands once more in her lap. "I shouldn't have burdened you with this, Kristoff. I apologize."

Kristoff shrugged and offered her a sincere smile. "It's okay, really. I imagine with, uh, _everything . . ._ you don't exactly have many people you can confide in."

 _Everything._ Like the isolation, the magic, being the Queen—everything that entailed. "No, not particularly." Elsa smiled. "Thank you, Kristoff."

"Anytime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be more to this chapter, another scene, but I figured I would post what I have now, give everyone something to (hopefully) brighten their day. I hope everyone is stay safe and healthy. In other good news I have the first two scenes of the next chapter of All It Cost written and it's around 5k words already.


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